The Way Things Are
by PersonifyThis
Summary: Arthur and Francis are overjoyed when their shy son, Matthew, becomes fast friends with the new boy in his class. However, not everything is as it seems with Matthew's new friend. FrUk.
1. Language

Two blond boys played with cars on a braided rug. Mattie's blue bedroom was loud with the sounds of them playing. A small hand pushed a green car across the wooden flooring next to the rug.

"You know Mattie, you could come over to my house if you want. No one's ever there so we could do anything we wanted too!"

Matthew just stared at him. Alfred smiled widely. It'd be nice to have someone else at home with him. Maybe even Mattie's daddy and papa would want to come too!

"Umm, that sounds like it could be fun. Maybe next time?" Matthew whispered.

"Yeah!" Alfred cheered. He could just imagine it now! He and Mattie would play all evening then, Mattie's Papa would make yummy dinner and his Daddy would read them stories after! It'd be awesome!

The two boys went back to playing on the rug. Their cars were friends, but Alfred's car could speak Spanish. Mattie's couldn't do that. He always got funny when Alfred spoke in Spanish to him.

Alfred grinned before chirping to Matthew, "apple circus, apple circus!" Then he started making different sounds.

"_Chupe mantaquillo de mi culo. Tu mama es una puta! Un gorrdito_."

"That's no fair Al, you know I can't speak Spanish." Matthew complained.

"_Su cabeza es un burro_," Alfred replied.

Alfred pushed his car across the floor laughing. His hands made squeaks across the hard wood. The two were so busy playing they missed the door opening and the tall blond who stood smiling at them.

"Boys, it's time for dinner," Mattie's Daddy said.

Matthew winced and slowly got up from the floor.

"YAY!" Alfred cheered as he ran to the door. He loved warm meals! Lucky Charms were only yummy the first three nights. Then it got boring.

"Come on, Mattie it's chow time!" Alfred called over his shoulder. He really didn't know why his friend got so slow around dinnertime. Usually he could almost beat Alfred in racing.

Alfred slid down the wooden hallway in his socks.

"Alfred, no running by the stairs!" A voice called from behind him.

"Yes Sir!" Alfred chirped. Alfred skipped downstairs.

He was just about to head into the dining room when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. He didn't jumped at all.

"Alfred," Mattie's Daddy said, "how many times have I told you, you can call me Arthur?"

Alfred wrinkled his brow. He used his fingers to help him count. Once the first time he came over. Twice the third time. Twice the last time and once now.

"Six times Sir!" Alfred smiled up at him. Mattie's Daddy always said he was a good boy when he got things right.

Arthur sighed and said, "You're a good boy Alfred Jones."

The little boy grinned at Mattie's Daddy.

Alfred slid into his chair at the dinner table. It was his chair because Mattie's Papa had said so after the third time Mattie had invited him over for dinner. He wiggled his butt in it. All his.

Matthew climbed into the chair next to him. Alfred looked to the doorway to the kitchen to see what dinner was going to be tonight. It always smelled good in the house, like spices and tea. That was one more thing Alfred liked about Mattie's place. Alfred's house smelled like lemon disinfectant and dust.

Mattie's Daddy walked in with a steaming plate of chicken. Alfred's tummy grumbled and he patted it. It was gonna be happy tonight.

"Daddy, when is Papa coming home?" Matthew asked. He looked more pale than normal to Alfred.

Arthur set the plate down, "In two sleeps love."

Matthew nodded and grabbed a bottle of ketchup from the middle of the table and squirted a big puddle of it on his plate.

Arthur served a leg to Mattie and Alfred each along with some kind of mushy green thing. Alfred wasn't very good at telling which vegetable was which cause he only ate them here.

"This looks great!" Alfred said and dug in.

"Yeah," Mattie mumbled, "great."

* * *

Snow was falling outside. Daddy was in the shower and Papa was reading the newspaper. Alfred said he would come over if it snowed this weekend and Matthew really wanted to figure this out before his friend came back.

He took a deep breath, "Papa do you know what _cuello_ means?"

Papa didn't even look up, "Ah _non_, _mon petit_."

Matthew stared at him. How could his Papa not know? Maybe he didn't hear him?

He tried again, "What about _gorrdita_?"

"_Non_," Francis replied finally looking up from his newspaper. Matthew bit his lip before uttering the next one. It had kinda sounded like a bad word he knew in French.

"What about _puta_?"

"Matthew!" Francis slapped his newspaper down. Mattie clutched his bear tighter but plowed on anyway.

"So you do?" Mattie asked, "What does it mean?"

"Where did you hear that word?" His Papa replied.

"Papa," Mattie said, "you told me it isn't nice to answer a question with a question."

Francis took a deep breath, "Matthew what you said is a very bad word. It's what mean, rude people call ladies."

Matthew gasped. Then why had Alfred said it so many times? He wasn't rude or mean!

"Can you tell me where you heard that word?"

Mattie chewed his lip. He didn't want to get his friend in trouble. Maybe he didn't know what it really meant.

"Umm..." Matthew hesitated.

"Don't lie to me," Francis warned.

"Alfred says it when we play all the time. He says he can speak Spanish and I just wanted to understand what he was saying!"

Papa was quiet for several moments. Mattie stood really still so he could think.

"Next time you hear him say it," Papa began, "you should tell him that you don't think it's a nice word to use. And you can ask him not to use it. Ok?"

"But what if he says no?" the little boy wondered.

"Then you come get me and we'll talk to him together."

"Ok Papa."

"And why don't you speak with Alfred in French baby?" Francis said, "No one says you have to speak Spanish."

"That's a good idea! Then I can teach him new words!" Matthew exclaimed.

Francis smiled, "that's my boy."

* * *

The bar was dark and smoky. It was crowded. Francis sighed. Fridays. He was lounging at a high top drinking with Antonio when a thought came to him.

"I need to ask you about Spanish curses, my friend." Francis said.

Antonio blinked. Francis had never taken an interest in his language before.

"Of course," he said, "but why?"

"I think my son is learning them from a friend and I want to be sure they're curses and not just gobbledygook before I make a thing out of it."

"Well tell me what he said and I'll tell you if it's a real word or not."

Francis repeated the words and Antonio cocked his head.

"You said your son is seven now right?" Antonio asked, "So his friend is the same age, yes?"

"Oui, he is also seven."

Antonio whistled, "Well that little one sure knows his stuff. The first one means asshole. The second isn't as bad. It means little fatty. Neither are words that I'd want around my first grader though."

Francis sighed and took a gulp of his wine before admitting, "I'm worried. Matthew says he uses these types words all the time when they play. And that there are more phrases he doesn't remember."

Both men were silent. The noise from the bar rolled around them. Francis watched Arthur down beers. He looked like he was in a drinking competition with Gilbert and Roderich.

Antonio finished his beer before saying, "I wonder what his home life is like for him to use them so causally."

"Not good." Francis muttered, "Not good."

* * *

AN: This is a fill for LJ. If you are interested in what the request asks for PM me and I'll send you the link.

Spanish translation:

Chupe mantaquillo de mi culo- Suck butter from my ass.

Tu mama es una puta.- Your mother is a whore.

Un gorrdito- Little fatty.

Su cabeza es un burro- Your head is an ass.


	2. Getting Dressed

Alfred trudged over to Mattie's when it'd finally stopped snowing. Alfred's house was really cold so it made no sense to stay there. Especially when he'd told Mattie they would play in the snow.

Before he left last time Alfred told his friend they should play at Mattie's house this time. Cause Alfred's house didn't really have a yard and it'd be no fun. But next time, they'd definitely play at Alfred's house!

It was grey everywhere. His neighborhood looked sad under all the snow. But the closer he got to Mattie's house the prettier the snow seemed to be. It wasn't grey, but white. His sneakers were all squishy from the slush on the streets. They hadn't gotten to plow his neighborhood yet.

On his walk over the sun started to peak out from behind the clouds. It made everything glitter and shine. As he walked up Mattie's street he decided that Mattie's house was the prettiest one on the block. His papa had put up pretty green boughs with red bobbles around the door and hung white lights from the roof. With the sun shining on the snow just made their house look magical.

Alfred rang the buzzer. While he was waiting he wiggled his toes. His socks were wet and his feet were really cold. Maybe Mattie would let him borrow another pair of socks.

"Coming!" a voice called through the wood. Alfred grinned. It sounded like Mattie's Papa was home.

The door spilled out warmth and the smell of ginger bread. Alfred started to shuffle closer before he stopped himself. He hadn't been invited in yet.

"Hi Mr. Bonnefoy!" Alfred greeted, "Can Mattie come out to play?"

"I told you he was coming Papa!" A voice squeaked.

A red puffball waddled over. Alfred stared at it. It had Mattie's face on top, but it wasn't shaped like his friend normally was. Mattie's bear was held in the puffball's hand though.

"Mattie... is that you?"

The puffball nodded, "I'm ready to outside!" Mattie's face grinned the drooped, "But Alfred where are your snow clothes?"

Alfred looked down at his clothes. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt over his thickest sweatshirt. He'd even put on two pairs of socks although the snow had already gotten them wet.

"I am wearing my snow clothes," he said slowly. "What the heck are you wearing? You look like a dodge ball," Alfred giggle and poked his friend. "But softer."

Matthew looked up to his papa. Alfred did too and Mr. Bonnefoy looked sad.

"Why don't you come in Alfred? We don't want to let all the heat out."

Alfred shrugged, "ok." He sniffed. Definitely ginger bread cookies. Maybe before he went home he could snag a cookie for dinner.

"Alfred why don't you borrow some of Mattie's old snow clothes?"

"Uh that's ok Mr. Bonnefoy. I'm fine." Even though standing in the heat of their house he felt like there was a sheet ice melting off of him.

"Are you sure? The snow is very cold out there."

Alfred shrugged. He'd be fine. Mattie's Papa continued on, "And you don't want to have to come inside early because you've gotten too cold to play, do you?"

Alfred gasped, that was true! "Ok! Can you help turn me into a snow repellent puffball Mr. Bonnefoy?"

"Of course," Mattie's Papa laughed.

* * *

Francis pulled the cookies out of the oven. He kept one eye on the boys. It looked like they were building an igloo. Matthew's bear sat on the edge of the sidewalk. Francis would have to make sure Matthew grabbed it when they came in.

"Those smell good," a voice said.

Francis smiled half-heartedly at Arthur, "_D'accord _I made them!"

Arthur gave his a light punch, probably so gentle because he was holding cookies. Francis smiled at the thought.

He set them down on the counter to cool. His eyes were quickly pulled back outside to the little boys. One in all red, the other in a miss mash of colors from whatever snow apparel Francis could find. A thin arm wrapped around his stomach and a forehead rested against his back.

"What's wrong love?" Arthur asked.

Francis sighed. It shouldn't be bothering him as much as it was. Really.

"Francis?"

Francis turned so he was hugging his husband before murmuring, "Alfred showed up to play in the snow in jeans and wet sneakers. He looked like he had walked here from his house, wherever that is."

He felt Arthur sigh. His breath was warm.

Francis continued on, "And when I convinced him to wear some of Matthew's old snow stuff, I had to walk him through how to get dressed. The child didn't know where mittens were supposed to go! Or how to wrap a scarf around himself... Matthew could do it all by himself last winter."

Francis closed his eyes and huddled against his husband, "I don't know what to do Arthur. Something is very wrong."

"We'll figure it out love." Arthur said, "Everything will be ok."

"I hope so."


	3. Food

**AN: **I'm looking for people to help with language translations. If you are well versed in French (particularly!) or Spanish and wouldn't mind looking at some simple translations for me PM me! I might not need you, but I'd still love to know if you are out there and willing! Thanks!

* * *

A black suitcase was sitting by the door. The green and grey linoleum was cold under Alfred's bare feet. His father stood in a dark business suit in the kitchen. Even though he'd just gotten back last night and he was leaving again already.

"I'll be gone for the next 3 weeks," his father said. His father's shoes were shiny and his brown hair was combed back. He had some grey in his hair that wasn't there the last time Alfred had seen him.

"Don't call me," the adult commanded. His daddy's voice was deep like the man on the All State commercials. "I'll be in business meetings." Alfred liked the All State man's voice better.

His father kept talking, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep going to school. I don't want to hear you've been skipping class when I get back."

Alfred nodded. He wouldn't skip school because then he wouldn't see Mattie. Plus Mattie sometimes shared his lunch with Alfred and he always had tasty lunches like egg salad sandwiches with pickles or peanut butter and blackberry jam. Alfred smacked his lips.

"I've left you enough food in the cupboards. Don't eat it all at once." Alfred frowned. He didn't think he was that big of an eater... well sometimes, but not all the time. Really only if he knew there was enough or if he was trying to get really full so he wouldn't be hungry later!

His father had stopped talking. Alfred twisted his shirt before blurting out, "Can't I come with you?" Alfred asked.

"_S'il te plait Papa_? I really get lonely here." He said.

"_Non_, don't be so needy Alfred." His father reprimanded him. "_Si on ne peut pas monter cheval, on monte mulet_."

Alfred toughened his heart and nodded. Make do with what you've got. Right. He didn't really want to go anyway.

His father gave him a tight smile then he grabbed his suitcase and opened the door.

"You'd better behave while I'm gone boy," he said over his shoulder. Then the door slammed shut.

Alfred wandered back into the empty kitchen. It was getting late and he'd have to figure out what he was doing for dinner soon. Alfred grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and climbed up on to the counter.

He opened the door and peered inside. Two boxes of Lucky Charms cereal, a loaf of bread, a half full jar of peanut butter, three bags of pasta, two jars of tomato sauce and a box of chocolate chip cookies. He sighed. If he portioned it right it could maybe last him a week and a half.

He sat on the counter. He decided he wasn't really that hungry tonight.

"I miss you Mere," Alfred whispered into the empty house.

* * *

At school on Monday, Alfred sat next to Matthew at lunch and Mattie's bear sat next to him. The two boys sat at a grey, round table with a few other scattered twosomes. It was quieter here than at the other tables.

Mattie's hockey lunch box was open. The other boy had a yummy looking ham and cheese sandwich in front of him. An apple juice box with a straw was sitting there too. Alfred didn't have a lunch box in front of him. But that was ok. He talked to Mattie about the stray cat he was befriending.

"She doesn't know it yet, but she's going to be my friend wither she likes it or not!" Alfred exclaimed.

Matthew hmmed.

"I left out one of my sweatshirts so she could have a pillow to sleep on," Alfred continued on. "You know how cold it is out there."

"That's really nice of you," Mattie whispered around the edges of his sandwich.

"I know right? I'm going to be so nice to her she'll have to stay at the house. Then it won't be so empty!"

Mattie nodded and stared at his sandwich.

"Alfred, do you want my cookies?" Mattie said, "I don't really like chocolate chip."

Alfred stopped talking and blinked, "You don't? I love chocolate chip cookies!" He exclaimed. "Thanks Mattie! You rock!"

"No worries," Matthew murmured, "Um Alfred? Do you wanna come over to my house after school toady?"

Alfred thought about it for a minute before replying, "No thanks, I've gotta go home after school today."

"But why?"

"I just do alright?" Alfred replied. He had to figure out how to get more food. And he couldn't figure that out if he was playing with Mattie.

"Ok Al," Matthew sighed.

Alfred returned to talking about his new cat friend while Mattie went back to munching on his sandwich.

* * *

Alfred had been scrimping on his breakfasts and not eating lunch. He hadn't figured out what to do on Monday so he'd been hoping Mattie would invite him over again. Then he could make his food last longer. But when Mattie didn't invite Alfred over on Tuesday or Wednesday the blond child caved and decided to make himself a big dinner- a bowl of pasta and two slices of bread.

When the sunlight faded from the kitchen walls, Alfred flipped on a light and dragged a kitchen chair over to the sink. He rustled around in the pots drawer for a little pot. He found a small black one. Heaving it into the sink and filling it up with water, the boy smiled at himself. He didn't need a daddy or a papa to make him dinner. He was a big boy.

Alfred turned the stove on and dragged the chair over. He slid the pot along the counter until it was next to the stove then he climbed up onto the chair. He moved the pot onto the heat and waited. He practiced his nine times tables on his fingers in the mean time.

When the water started bubbling Alfred went to grab the pasta box from the self but found he couldn't reach it. Huffing the little boy climbed onto the counter. A hiss sounded and Alfred cried out and scrambled further onto the ledge. He looked down to see a red mark on the side of his wrist and hand. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Estupido," he muttered.

Loud bubbling came from the pot and Alfred shakily reached back to lower the flame. He pulled out some spaghetti noodles and broke them in half before putting them in the water. Once the noodles were in Alfred scooted over to the sink and let cold water run over the burn. That felt nice. After a few minutes, Alfred pulled his hand back out of the water and kissed the mark gently.

"It'll be ok," he said to his wrist, "I'll make you better soon."

The child ignored the throbbing burn while he made his toast and finished up the pasta. He heated up the sauce in the microwave, being really careful this time not to let any part of him rub up against the pot.

He laid out his dinner table like he'd seen Mattie's parents do. He folded the napkin in half and put his fork on it. He tried not to be upset that the corners didn't match up.

When he finally got all the food on the table and a band-aid on his burn his pasta and toast wasn't hot anymore. Alfred pouted, but ate the chilly meal anyway.

It was food in his belly.

* * *

The next time Mattie invited Alfred over for dinner was Friday. Mattie told Alfred his Papa was cooking dinner that night. His dinners are always super good so Alfred said yes. When the two boys got off the bus that afternoon Alfred convinced Matthew to play outside with him.

Only little piles of the snow remained. Alfred kicked at them like a soccer ball. His head was hurting and he was tired, but he didn't want to let Mattie know something was up. Dinner would be ready soon and then Alfred would feel better.

"Hey Alfred," Mattie called from his spot on the tire swing. "I know you know apple circus, but didja know I know golden roses?"

Alfred wandered over, "what's that?" He asked.

Matthew used his legs to push the tire swing back and forth. Kumajuju was swinging with him.

"_Qu'est-ce que on va a jouer,"_ Mattie called down to Alfred.

Alfred blinked then interrupted, "_Est-ce que tu peux parler Français_?"

Mattie stopped swinging, "_Oui_."

The two boys stared at each other for a moment before Alfred began to giggle. Mattie started chuckling at his giggling friend and before Alfred knew it they were both cracking up.

Alfred wiped a tear from his cheek. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard.

Mattie gasped, "We should tell my Papa," before he was scrambling off the tire swing.

"_Papa! Papa!_" Mattie hollered as he ran towards the house, "_Vous savez quoi?! Alfred parle français_!"

Alfred was about to head into the house when he saw Kumagingerbread sitting on the tire swing still. Alfred ran over to pick him up. That wasn't like Mattie to forget his teddy behind.

The blond boy trailed Mattie inside still smiling. Mattie was standing by the island grinning and Francis was rushing towards Alfred. His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"_Parle tu_ _français?"_ Mattie's Papa exclaimed before hands pulled him up off the floor and spun him around. Mattie's bear flew around with him. Alfred laughed at the sensation.

"_Vous êtes un garçon intelligent!"_ Francis praised.

"_Oui, merci_ Mattie's Papa!" Alfred giggled.

"_Je suis tellement heureux!" _Mattie's Papa said.

Mattie's Papa sat Alfred back on the ground. Alfred wobbled a little then held out Kumajuma for Mattie. The child smiled and cuddled his bear.

Francis grinned at the display before loudly inviting the boys to sit and talk with him while he finished dinner. Alfred was eager to speak his mother's native tongue and climbed into his chair at the table.

He told Francis about the cat he was making friends with. He'd decided to name her Fluffy! Francis smiled and returned to his pot but his attention was on the boys.

* * *

This chapter's language help came from Nekolandia. Thank you!

**Translations:**

Spanish:

"Estupido"- stupid

French:

"S'il te plait Papa?"= Please Dad?

"_Si on ne peut pas monter cheval, on monte mulet_." - If you can't ride a horse, ride a donkey. (Or make do with what you've got.)

_"Qu'est-ce que on va a jouer." - _What are we going to play?

"_Est-ce que tu peux parler Français_?" - You speak French?

"Vous savez quoi?! Alfred parle français!" - Guess what?! Alfred speaks French!

"_Parle tu_ _français?"- _You speak French?

"Vous êtes un garçon intelligent!" - You are a smart boy!

"Je suis tellement heureux!"- I'm so pleased!


	4. Magic

AN: So just in case Hurricane Sandy decides to take out the power over here on the Eastern Seaboard here is the next chapter! Say thank you to the hurricane everybody. Oh and Alfred wants me to tell you that he's "really, really happy cause there's two days of no school!" This also means I'll have oodles of time to write. Thanks Sandy!

* * *

That night Arthur marched into his bedroom waving a wad of toilet paper around. Francis was brushing his teeth in their bathroom so Arthur strode in.

"Alfred lost a tooth today," Arthur exclaimed with his hands on his hips.

Francis spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth out, "Excuse me?"

"I _said_," he huffed, "Alfred lost a tooth today."

Francis looked at him as if he had six heads. Arthur felt his cheeks flushing, with rage of course.

"How do you know?" The French-men asked leaning back against the sink to face him.

"I was throwing the junk mail away and I saw this in the trash," Arthur said and held out the toilet paper.

Francis blinked and took the bundle. He peeled back the layers and stared down at it. Arthur knew what the tooth looked like. The Brit had stared at it for several minutes before he'd come storming upstairs. Nestled in that paper was a tiny pearly tooth about the size of a pea, one end was pink from where it had been attached to Alfred's gum. That wasn't the point though. The point was that it was in the trash and not under a pillow.

Francis handed him back the tooth and Arthur glared at his husband. How could he not see the problem?

"Francis!" He exclaimed, "What did you do the last time Matthew lost a tooth, huh? You told him to put it under his pillow because the tooth fairy was coming!"

Arthur waved the napkin with Alfred's tooth in front of Francis, "Alfred didn't even tell us! He just threw it in the garbage."

Francis sighed, "Well what are we suppose to do?"

Arthur threw his hands up. "I don't know! Why do you think I'm coming to _you_ to talk about it?!"

Francis raised an eyebrow, "You know we can't tell him to put the tooth under his pillow for the tooth fairy."

Arthur stopped waving the napkin in front of Francis's face. How did Francis know that was really what he wanted to figure out.

"Why not?"

Francis just stared at him, "He doesn't live here Arthur and this isn't the first tooth he's lost."

Francis continued on, "Maybe he put one under his pillow the first time and nothing happened, maybe he even did it the second time. At some point Alfred must have realized the tooth fairy wasn't coming and started throwing them away."

Arthur looked at the floor. They needed to be scrubbed. He should do that tomorrow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Francis shift.

Arms wrapped around the shorter man, "And what happens when he's at home and he loses another tooth?" Francis asked. "If we tell him to put it under a pillow at our house because a magical fairy is coming then how do we explain why it doesn't work when he's alone at his house?"

Arthur clenched the little napkin. He tried to keep his chin from wobbling.

"But..."

"No, Arthur," Francis sighed, "He's not our son. We can't."

Arthur sat down on the edge of their bed hard. Arthur stared at Alfred's pearly tooth with watery eyes.

He felt like Alfred was.

* * *

Mattie squeezed a blob of glue onto his yellow construction paper. Their class was making holiday ornaments in Art class. Mattie was making a star ornament.

"Aren't you excited Alfred?" Mattie gushed. He loved this time of year. Everyone put their decorations up and Papa made lots of yummy cookies and Santa came!

"For what?" His friend asked. He was concentrating hard on cutting out white circles for his snowman.

"For Christmas of course!" Matthew exclaimed.

Alfred stared at him for a moment before replying, "Not really," and then he went back to cutting a large circle. It came out wobbly on one side. He stuck his tongue out and made a big cut. Now the circle had a straight edge. Alfred sighed.

"Why not?" Mattie asked, "It's the best time of the year! Santa is coming soon!"

Alfred shrugged, "Well I guess it's ok... I really like all the decorations on the houses."

Matthew nodded, "What presents do you think you'll get? I'm hoping Santa will bring me hockey skates."

Mattie stared at his friend, waiting for an answer but Alfred just kept working on his snowman. His friend had been talking about a rocket ship for the last few weeks. The small boy had thought that's what Alfred would say he was getting for Christmas. Matthew looked back down at his star ornament. He traced some flames out of light yellow and white paper. It was going to be a shooting star, he decided.

Alfred had started to glue his pieces together when he bit at his lip and said, "Santa doesn't come to my house."

Matthew stopped cutting to look up at Alfred. "Why?" he asked, "Were you a naughty boy?" That was the only reason Santa didn't give gifts to girls and boys. He didn't think Alfred was bad, but maybe he was at home... Mattie couldn't be sure.

"No!" Alfred exclaimed, "at least not on purpose! Santa used to come... But then my father and I moved a lot. I think he must've forgotten about me."

Matthew's brow furrowed. Santa could... forget people? But he was Santa! He was magic! If he couldn't find Alfred then something was wrong. If Alfred was a good boy Santa should visit him... and even if he was a bad boy he should _still_ visit him and give him coal.

"Have you written him a letter?" He asked. Alfred looked up from coloring his snowman's scarf.

"Last year my Daddy helped me write him a letter and I got everything on my list." Mattie explained, "Maybe if you write him a letter and you write your address he'll remember where you live!"

Alfred nodded frantically, "That's a great idea! I'll do it as soon as I get home!"

Mattie smiled glad he was able to help his friend. The two boys went back to working on their ornaments. Matthew finished his shooting star and wrapped it in blue tissue paper. He was going to give it to his parents to put on their tree. He looked over at Alfred. His snowman had turned out really good. You couldn't see any of the straight edges on the snowballs and he had put the hole for the string in the snowman's top-hat so you couldn't really see it. Matthew wished he could make his ornament look that cool.

* * *

A snowman shaped package, wrapped in yellow paper lay at the side of the kitchen table. Alfred sat across from it and a lined piece of paper sat in front of him. How did he start his letter? Alfred twiddle his yellow pencil and absently chewed on the pink eraser.

He spat it out, "Gross!" The blue eyed boy kicked his legs under the table for a few minutes thinking. Finally he decided to just start writing so Alfred put the tip down and began.

'Hi Santa,' he scratched out in large letters.

'My name is Alfred Jones. You use to visit me when my family lived in New Orleans.' He stopped after that. What next? He tapped the pencil against the table.

'I wanted to let you know that me and my father have moved.' He wrote, 'Don't worry about forgetting because we moved around a bunch.' He underlined 'a bunch' two times.

'My friend Mattie told me that I should write you with my Christmas list. But I only really want one thing this year.'

He hesitated in writing his Christmas wish. He stared at the blue lines of the paper and chewed on his thumbnail.

He set the pencil tip down and wrote in his best letters, 'Could you please bring my mother home?'

'Please Santa I've been a really good boy this year and I won't ask for anything else.'

Alfred crossed his left hand fingers and kept writing, 'I know it's a big wish but it's all I want for Christmas.'

Alfred's eyes watered as he thought of his Mere's laugh and her perfume in the purple bottle. He really wanted her back again.

He signed his name at the bottom and drew a picture of his mom and him holding hands. After a moment he drew his father in too. He drew his father smiling like he used to. Alfred ran into his father's office for an envelope. He found them in a box under his desk. The child stuffed his letter inside and on the front he put:

'Santa Claus

The North Pole'

On the back he wrote:

'Alfred F. Jones

76 Jefferson Drive

Boston, MA

USA'

Alfred ran out to the mailbox barefoot. He hoped he wasn't too late. He stuck the letter inside the box and lifted the little red flag up. Christmas was next week after all. Alfred crossed his fingers again.

* * *

AN: Yes I know a first grader would have more spelling mistakes than that in a letter, but after writing it out with no capitalization, backwards b's and d's and other common spelling errors it got to be illegible. So I tried to make the writing style more first grader-y. Clever readers would notice there are no commas anywhere and some of his sentences run on. Of course you all caught that, right?

Happy Hurricane Day!


	5. Providing

Shoppers steered around the man and little boy blocking the exit of the Dollar Tree. The manager was scolding Alfred after he'd tried to shoplift, even though it wasn't really his fault! His father hadn't left him any extra money for groceries and he was hungry! Alfred fidgeted with the straps of his backpack and scuffed the floor. The yellow and white checkered linoleum was dirty.

After telling Alfred off, the manager marched Alfred over to a register and pulled all the food out of his backpack. Alfred tried not to sniffle. He thought he'd been doing really well. No one seemed to notice him at first.

Alfred rubbed at his eyes. He should have just left with the bread and bananas, but he'd gotten greedy.

"We're going to need to call your parents young man," the man said.

Alfred gulped. He couldn't call his father. He just couldn't. The little boy tried to remember the cell phone number for Mattie's Daddy.

"Ok fine," Alfred grumbled, trying to sound angry instead of scared, "my dad's number is 914-937-2218."

The manager grit his teeth at Alfred and punched the number into the phone.

"Hello sir," the manager said, "My name is Andrew Dewey. I'm the manager over at the Dollar Tree. I'm sorry to say that we have your son here with us."

Alfred cringed at the lie. Why couldn't the guy have just given him a warning? Mattie's Daddy was going to be so mad at him. Then he could never go back to Mattie's house to play with him and he wouldn't be able to eat yummy family dinners anymore. He'd be so lonely without Mattie. He was like his brother.

"Unfortunately he's been found shoplifting." Mr. Dewey continued.

Alfred chewed on his thumbnail. What would Mattie's Daddy say to that? That his son wouldn't do that and they must have the wrong number? Worried, the little boy bit down hard and tasted blood. He pulled his finger out of his mouth and stuffed his hand in his pocket.

"Yes, well we'll need you to come down to pick him up." Alfred's eyes widened at that. Arthur wasn't going to come. He was going to tell the manager that his son was at home with him and he didn't know the delinquent who was using his number.

"Thank you, we'll see you soon." The child felt all of his breath whoosh out of him. He was coming? Alfred bit his lip and started to tear up. Before he knew it great big sobs were ripping out of him.

"Sir if you could hurry that'd be great." The manager said before hanging up the phone.

Alfred couldn't help it. Usually he only cried in the bathroom with the shower on, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He was going to get in so much trouble. Plus Arthur was going to know Alfred had been stealing food.

Alfred tried to take some deep breaths and calm himself down, but the tears kept dribbling out of his eyes. The child wiped his nose with his sleeve.

He stared down at his blue backpack. It had a few holes in it from the two years of constant use. The bananas he'd taken were laying upside down half in, half out of the bag. They looked like a sad face, depressed that they were caught in two places at the same time. The peanut butter was on the counter next to his bag. Alfred sniffed before his eyes started leaking again. He was so stupid! How could he not have seen that man watching him?

The little boy's chest hurt and his heart was aching like he was having a heart attack. He hiccupped. It wasn't fair!

"Oh Alfred, shh baby, shh," a lilting voice whispered before he was pulled into a hug. Short hairs tickled his ear and cheek. The smell of tea and spices wafted around him. He leaned into the person and cried and cried and cried until his tears made their coat slick and cold. The boy sniffed and pulled back. Arthur was kneeling down in front of him. He was wearing a black parka with a large wet patch on his shoulder.

"What's going on love?" He asked in a low voice, "Why are you stealing?"

Alfred folded himself back into Arthur's hug instead of answering. The child battled with himself. Should he tell him? Arthur was doing a really nice thing by picking him up. Alfred guessed he owned the man an answer. He mumbled into his shoulder, "Don't have any more food at home 'n I was really hungry."

He felt Arthur stand and he was picked up. He wrapped his arms around Mattie's Daddy wishing he was really Alfred's daddy.

"Alright let's see how we can fix this."

Alfred watched as Arthur rifled through his food with one hand: bread, bananas, grape juice, frozen chicken fingers, peanut butter and a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. Greedy.

"Mr. Dewey?" Arthur asked. "I'm Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur used his free hand to shake the manager's.

"I'm glad you were able to come so quickly Mr. Kirkland," Mr. Dewey sniffed. "Shoplifting is a matter we take very seriously here and it is concerning to see a child so young practicing it."

"I am sorry about the misunderstanding," Mattie's Daddy said. "My son doesn't always remember that he has to pay before he leaves a store. He's still young. I'm sure you can understand that."

Alfred pulled his head up from Arthur's neck to stare at him. Why was he lying for Alfred?

"You realize this is a serious concern." Mr Dewey said, "You should really address this with him before it gets any worse. Next time we'll have to take more serious action."

Alfred felt his ears grow warm and he buried his head in Mattie's Daddy's neck. Serious action... like the police? He didn't want to go to jail.

"You should keep your parenting advice to yourself. It isn't wanted," Mattie's Daddy sneered. "And who said there will be a next time. Now tell me how much we owe for the groceries. I have other matters to attend to."

Mr. Dewey gave a great big sigh, "Six dollars."

Arthur loosened his grip on Alfred and the boy slid down to the floor. He watched Mattie's Daddy pull out a ten dollar bill from his wallet. Alfred clutched the back of Arthur's coat. Alfred grabbed his backpack.

"You can keep the change," Mattie's Daddy sneered. Then he was ushered out of the store and into the family's car.

Arthur opened the door for Alfred and the small boy scrambled in. Arthur told him to sit in Mattie's booster chair. Alfred awkwardly sat himself down and put his bag next to him. The boy had to dig some straps out from under him.

The door snapped shut and the engine grumbled to life. Alfred fumbled over the buckles. Which ones went where? A buckle in front of him clicked.

"All set?" Mattie's Daddy looked over his shoulder at him.

Alfred's face burned. He tried to force the snaps together, but they wouldn't go.

He stared down at two little black buckles. Why wouldn't they go together? His vision blurred. A car door opened and a cool draft fluttered across his burning cheeks. Two large hands entered his vision, reorganizing the straps and buckles.

"I've got it," Arthur said. Alfred let his hands flop to the side like dead fish. He couldn't even get that right. A warm hand brushed across his cheeks.

"Hey," Arthur said and tapped him on the nose. "It's alright. We'll figure this out. Ok?"

A lump was stuck in Alfred's throat so he just nodded. Arthur finished strapping him into the stupid seat. While they were driving back to the house Arthur tried to start conversation a few times, but Alfred didn't feel like talking. Instead the child just stared out the window and watched the brick buildings pass by.

When they got home, Arthur told him he could go play with Mattie. He didn't really want to play though.

The two boys sat on beanbags under the window in Mattie's room. Mattie had just been quietly watching him.

"Do you want to hold onto Kumajigsaw?" Mattie asked. "He always makes me feel better."

Alfred sat still for a moment before nodding. Mattie leaned over and gently placed his bear in Alfred's arms.

"He's a good hugger. So if you get sad you can hug him."

The boys sat for a moment. Alfred felt Mattie's eyes on him, but he just hid in the white fur.

"I'll read you a story." Mattie said, "You listen, ok?"

Alfred nodded and hugged Kumajaranamo. Matthew's soft voice began reading the Adventures of Captain Underpants. Alfred closed his eyes.

This was his favorite book.

* * *

AN: I just can't help but put them online as I finish them. So here you go! Happy Halloween!


	6. Houses

That evening a dark blue car pulled up to Alfred's home. Arthur came around to help unbuckle him from Mattie's clingy booster seat. Alfred slid himself to the ground with a small grunt.

"Thanks for driving me home," Alfred said to Mattie's Daddy.

"Of course," Arthur smiled.

Alfred started to walk to the door when he noticed Mattie's Daddy was right next to him.

"Thanks," he said, "but you can go home now. I'm fine."

"Oh no I insist," Arthur replied, "I want to make sure you get inside ok."

Alfred grimaced. He walked up to the door. Each step felt like he was getting closer to his doom. A sick feeling built in his stomach. The metal from his key bit into his hand.

Alfred slid the key into the lock thinking quickly. Could he step inside and not invite Mattie's Daddy in? Technically then Arthur would see he was safe in his house... He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Well thanks for everything, Arthur." He said using the man's name for the first time, "Tell Mattie I'll see him in school tomorrow."

Dark eyebrows rose higher and higher as Alfred spoke. The adult's hand came up to stop Alfred from closing the door.

"Wait Alfred, I'd love to meet your parents."

Alfred blinked up at Mattie's Daddy. He wanted... to meet Alfred's father? Alfred stared at him. After dinner Arthur had said he would drive Alfred home and Alfred wasn't one to turn down a free ride home especially because it was dark and so cold. December in Boston kind of made Alfred miserable when he had to walk places. So he'd said yes, not thinking anything of it. That was a bad choice.

What did he do? Alfred shuffled his feet. If Mattie's Daddy came in and found out his dad wasn't around... what would they do? Would he get in trouble from them? He wasn't sure. What he did know was if his dad found out strangers had been snooping he'd definitely be in trouble.

"My father is at the store right now."

"Oh, well... I'll wait." Arthur replied, "I don't mind."

Alfred bit his lip. A strong breeze whipped around them while Alfred debated. His father wouldn't be back for a long time... and Mattie's Parents made him dinner and Mattie's Papa made cookies and cocoa for him sometimes. If Arthur got mad at Alfred for not letting him in maybe they wouldn't do that anymore.

He brought his hand up to his mouth and chewed on the corner of his thumbnail. What to do? Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck him. His father might not even find out Mattie's Daddy came over! Alfred just wouldn't say anything to him!

Decision made he let Mattie's Daddy in. He'd figure out what to tell Arthur about his father inside.

"Why don't I make us some tea while we wait? Hmm?"

Alfred panicked. If Mattie's Daddy started looking in the cupboards he'd know there Alfred's father wasn't around. Right now Alfred was banking on Arthur thinking his father was just too poor to keep food in the house. But to keep that illusion up Arthur couldn't pry into everything! And he still hadn't found out how he was going to have Arthur "meet" his father.

"No!" He exclaimed, "That's ok, I can make it."

"Oh no, love, I insist. Hot water can be dangerous."

Mattie's Daddy headed into the kitchen. Alfred freaked out, not sure what to do. The only food in the house was the food in Alfred's backpack. The blond haired child slumped onto the couch, hiding his face in his hands. He really didn't want to deal with this anymore.

"Now where can I find the kettle?" A cabinet opened and closed.

They didn't have a kettle.

Alfred closed his eyes. Another cabinet opened and closed. Then a drawer was opened and closed forcefully. Next the refrigerator was opened and after a few moments it was slammed shut.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. His heart was going so fast he imagined it was a hummingbird. Hummingbirds were great birds. They could fly backwards and hover in mid-air. They could be almost any color and they flew super, super fast.

Two hands gripped his shoulders.

"Alfred," Arthur said. Alfred kept his face hidden.

"Alfred, baby, look at me please."

Slowly Alfred pulled his hands down. He stared at the floor until he gathered up the courage to look at Mattie's Daddy.

Mattie's Daddy was kneeling in front of the couch. He had green eyes. Alfred had never really noticed before. The child stared at the color. They were green like his forest-green colored pencil with little bits of yellow in them. Alfred wanted eyes like that.

"When is your father really coming home Alfred?" Arthur asked, kneeling before him.

Alfred looked away. He'd seen so he should know. He wasn't coming back for a long time and Alfred had been a greedy boy and eaten the food too fast.

Alfred opened his mouth ready to tell Mattie's Daddy that his father was gone for the night. He'd say he had forgotten and he was really sorry he'd wasted Arthur's time.

As he was opening his mouth to reply Arthur cut in, "Don't lie to me again," Mattie's Daddy warned.

Alfred paused, he'd heard Mattie's Daddy say that to Mattie a million times before, but Alfred wasn't Mattie. Why did he have to follow the same rules? That wasn't fair.

Alfred drummed his feet against the back of the couch. Arthur kept staring at him with those green eyes. Alfred tried to win the staring competition but after a few minutes he broke.

"Not for another two weeks," Alfred grumbled, "Now will you please go away?"

"Don't take that tone with me young man. I don't appreciate it."

Alfred took a deep breath. He didn't want Mattie's Daddy angry, "Look it's fine." He said, trying to sound mature, "I've been doing this since forever, ok? I know how to take care of myself."

"And what about this afternoon?" Arthur asked, "Why were you stealing if you can take care of yourself?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Alfred stated.

Arthur huffed, "Alf-"

"You said I couldn't lie! So I don't feel like talking about it right now."

The two just stared at each other.

"How about you come back and have a sleep over with Mattie tonight? We can figure out what to do tomorrow."

Alfred chewed on his thumbnail. Fluffy, the cat he was befriending, hadn't been around much recently. The house would be super quiet tonight. But what if she decided to come back? She'd be lonely...

He shook his head.

"Why not Alfred?" Arthur asked, "You love spending time with Mattie."

"I don't want Fluffy to be lonely," he explained.

"Whose Fluffy?" Arthur asked.

Alfred explained and Mattie's Daddy came up with a solution to leave out some clothes and water so if Fluffy did come back he knew Alfred would be back. Alfred agreed to the plan so Arthur set out Fluffy's stuff while the boy got ready for his sleep over.

Alfred emptied out his backpack in the kitchen then headed into his bedroom. Alfred skirted around the window. At night it always reminded him of a gaping, toothless mouth ready to suck him down at any moment. He liked Mattie's window much better. It had thick curtains. Alfred would bet you couldn't see out it at all during the night.

His bed wasn't made and Alfred carelessly pulled up the navy quilt. He threw his backpack on the bed and wandered over to his drawers. He grabbed his superman pajamas 'cause they were the best, two pairs of clean underwear and an outfit for tomorrow. Alfred stared at his rumpled bed. Under his pillow was Snowy, his little white blanket.

No one knew about Snowy. Alfred's Mere gave him the blanket when he was really little. While his father was on his burning spree, Alfred had hidden Snowy away so he wouldn't get burnt up too. He only brought Snowy out when his father was away. The boy used to press his face against the blanket because it smelled like his Mere's perfume. He didn't do that anymore though. He slid his hand under the white pillow he'd hide Snowy in his backpack.

"Is this your room Alfred?"

Alfred clenched his fist around the soft edge of the blankie. Mattie's Daddy padded over to him and peered in his backpack.

"Do you want to pack some different pajamas?" Arthur asked, "These have holes in them."

Arthur opened up his pajama drawer and held up a pair of new looking grey pajamas.

"What about these?" He asked.

"My Superman ones are my favorites," Alfred blurted out.

"Superman?" Arthur asked.

Alfred hmmed, "Yeah cause he saves people." Alfred caressed the fabric. "My father thinks it's childish though so he won't buy them anymore."

Arthur stared at him for a moment and Alfred thought he saw a frown before Arthur was smiling at him, "Well Superman it is then. Did you remember to pack your comb and a toothbrush?"

Alfred shook his head and ran into the bathroom.

"What about socks?" Arthur called from behind him, "And underwear?"

As Alfred gathered up his bathroom stuff an idea came to him.

"I forgot socks," he called out, "but I packed two pairs of underwear!"

"Good boy!" Arthur praised. Alfred came back in with his bathroom supplies and asked, "Can you grab socks for me? They're in the drawer next to my pajamas."

Arthur nodded and turned around. Quickly Alfred pulled Snowy out and stuffed him deep inside the backpack. Arthur gave Alfred the socks none the wiser.

Alfred had to squish the top of stuff to make the backpack zipper around it. He slung it onto his shoulder.

"Ready to go?" Arthur asked.

Alfred looked around the room- blank walls, navy comforter, wood floors, wooden dresser and night table. There was a cardboard box in the corner with his comics hidden away in it. He wanted to take those too... but at least Snowy had made it.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He said as he walked out of the room. As he was walking out of the house with Mattie's Daddy, Alfred decided that even if his father was going to be mad, Alfred didn't care because Alfred wasn't spending the night in the big, empty house with a hungry belly. And that was really, really awesome.


	7. Responsibility

Alfred settled into the family routine easily. All the time he'd spent with Matthew was coming in handy. The two boys went to school together on the bus. Matthew was glad to have someone to share the seat with. He always got stuck next to Natasha for some reason and she scared him. While Alfred was glad that he didn't have to walk to school and was thrilled when he looked in his backpack and found a brown paper bag lunch waiting for him. He made the right choice in going with Arthur.

It snowed again. All of Boston was draped in blue snow. Alfred and Mattie had played outside until the sun went down. When the boys came crunching inside Francis and Arthur told Matthew to go take the first shower then start his homework. Mattie had pouted, but trudged upstairs anyway.

As he was heading upstairs, Mattie's Daddy asked Alfred to sit at the kitchen table with them and have cocoa. The little boy skipped into the kitchen, shedding layers as he went.

"Of course," he exclaimed, "I love hot chocolate!"

"Alfred! Get back here and pick up these clothes!" Arthur called after him. The boy looked over his shoulder sheepishly, "Sorry," he said coming back without skipping to snag the clothes off the floor.

Arthur grabbed a mitten that had landed on the couch, "That's ok." He sighed, "I know you're excited for cocoa."

Alfred smiled the previous chastisement forgotten and slid across the hardwood and into the kitchen. An exasperated "Alfred, I've told you, no sliding!" followed him which he ignored. The kitchen smelled of heat and chocolate. Francis was standing at the stove, stirring. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and an apron was tied low around his waist.

Alfred hopped into his seat beginning to chatter in French to Mattie's Papa about the snow and the possibility of no school the next day. When Arthur walked in, Francis smoothly transitioned the conversation to English.

It took Alfred a moment to shake the sounds of English back into his head. French was so much more slippery than English. Alfred could flip from English to French easy, but a lot of times going from French to English felt like putting rocks on his tongue and took him longer to adjust.

Francis came over with three cups of hot chocolate. Alfred's had mini marshmallows in it. Francis sat down. Both grown-ups just looked at him for a moment. It was the kind of look the usually came before Alfred got in trouble.

The little boy started going over the last few days. He didn't think that he'd done anything _really_ bad recently... well besides the shoplifting... and maybe the house thing... But they weren't his fathers. They shouldn't be able to give him punishments... right? And would they have waited so long to give him a punishment?

He wasn't sure.

"Alfred," Francis began and Alfred started to sweat a little, "Arthur told me what happened last night."

Alfred blushed and kicked his legs. Stupid, empty house. He stirred his hot chocolate, breathing in the thick smell of cocoa.

"Ok," he grumbled, looking down at his drink. The marshmallows were melting. Alfred gave the cocoa another stir. The pipes groaned above them. Mattie was using lots of hot water for his shower. He looked up to see Francis and Arthur making faces at each other. When they noticed him watching they stopped.

"Do you know what your job is Alfred?" Francis asked.

Alfred furrowed his brow in puzzlement. What a strange questions. He thought Francis was going to grill him about his father.

"No..." he dragged the word out.

"Do you want to guess?" The Frenchman asked.

He bit at his nail as he thought.

"Well... maybe to be a good student?" Alfred said.

"Yes, good boy!" Francis praised and Alfred grinned. "Exactly, to be a good student and to learn how to be a good person so one day you'll grow up to be a good adult."

Alfred nodded, "That sounds like an good job."

"Do you know how a child learns to become a good person?" Arthur asked.

Alfred bit his nail and pondered the question. The shower started running somewhere above them. After a minute he shook his head.

"The learn by watching adults, usually their parents." Arthur explained. "So who do you think Matthew learns from?"

"You?" Alfred guessed.

"Right again! You are one smart cookie," Francis said.

Alfred blushed, "thanks," he mumbled.

"So who do you think you learn from?" Arthur asked.

"My father?" Alfred guessed again.

Arthur's nostrils flared and Francis eyes went narrow. Alfred slouched down in his seat. Maybe that wasn't the right answer? His fingers came up to his mouth and he began to chew on them.

"But Alfred," Francis said, "How can you learn if your father isn't around?"

Alfred put his chin in his hand. He took a few sips of his drink before shrugging, "I guess I have to cram a lot in, in little bits." He hoped that was the answer they were looking for.

Arthur swore quietly then apologized. Alfred just shrugged, he'd heard worse.

"No," Francis said reaching out for Alfred's hand, "You can't learn in little bits. It's like school you need to go every day and if your daddy isn't going to be home for the next few days we can't let you go home." Francis said.

"But I do it all the time," Alfred said. Mattie's parents just stared at him so Alfred added on, "And I think I'm growing up to be a good person!" while grinning at them. They didn't smile back.

"Because it wouldn't be right," Francis said slowly, "Adults are supposed to take care of children."

"I'm a big boy," Alfred said, "I don't need anyone to help me learn anything."

"What about the shoplifting?" Arthur pointed out. "Do you think that is what a good adult does? Do you think Matthew would have done that?"

Alfred just stared at the table without saying anything. No, but Matthew wasn't him.

"I thought so." Arthur continued, "If you had an adult around you wouldn't have that problem love. You know it's bad to steal."

Alfred glowered at the tabletop. It wasn't his fault though! That was just what he needed to do! Not everyone had adults to take care of them! Who was he suppose to go to? They wouldn't believe him!

"What you did was wrong and even though it was for a good reason you should have come to an adult for help. That's why you need to stay here with us."

Alfred carved at the wood. The shower stopped running. Alfred wished he was Mattie instead right now. They looked so much alike he could probably get away with it too. Then Mattie could be having this stupid conversation, not Alfred.

"Mon petit, talk to us," Francis said in French.

And like magic the words that he couldn't say in English started pouring out of him in French. They were angry words. Words he wouldn't say in English slid out around his teeth, cannonballed off his tongue and into the air before he could stop them.

"No one would believe me if I told them I was hungry or lonely," Alfred exclaimed in angry French. "Or if they did they'd probably tell me to toughen up!" Alfred threw his hands in the air, "My father says that all the time. 'Make do with what you've got.'" He imitated his father's deep voice.

"And _he_ sucks. Ever since Mere died he's been stupid and mean and he doesn't smile at me anymore. It's like he went away even though he's still there. And I don't know how to get him back."

"And you know Mattie's my bestest friend in the whole wide world, but he's a big baby! He shouldn't need someone to take care of him _all the time!_ And I hate my window! It's scary!"

Alfred panted as he finished ranting. Then his eyes widened as he realized everything he'd just admitted too. All he could think was they were going to be so mad at him for calling their son a baby.

He shrunk down in his seat waiting for them to yell at him or tell him he was stupid, but instead they just looked at him. They didn't get mad or laugh at him. They just sat quietly across from him.

"Alfred, Matthew is a baby," Arthur said.

The boy looked up at Arthur, eyes wide. A little bubble of laughter welled in his heart and he smiled. Mattie's Daddy just called Mattie a baby!

"But so are you," Arthur finished. And just like that Alfred's laughter poofed away. The boy wrinkled his nose.

"You shouldn't have to worry about cooking or getting yourself to school or being all alone. That's not your job. That's an adult's job. That's why we can't let you go back to that empty house."

Alfred fidgeted in his seat.

_His_ seat.

The one he sat in when the Bonnefoy-Kirkland family had dinner together.

It would be nice to have warm meals every day and sleepovers with Mattie and someone to put band-aids on his ouchies.

Plus Arthur had really saved his butt at the grocery store. He owed him big time for that.

He nodded, "Ok, but just this one time."

Arthur and Francis looked at each other. Alfred finished his hot chocolate.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Arthur said.

"What bridge?" Alfred asked. Arthur sighed and Francis chuckled.

"It's a figure of speech, it means we'll talk about it later." Francis explained.

"Ohhh ok," Alfred said.

"I know Matthew is probably working on his homework now. Have you finished yours?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Alfred said.

Both men stared at him before bursting into laughter. Alfred smiled. He thought it was pretty clever too.


	8. Sleeping

Alfred wiggled his toes under the Scooby Doo covers. Mattie had an awesome bed that had a bed come out from _underneath_ it. There were glow in the dark star stickers on the ceiling. His window had thick, blue curtains over it. Not like Alfred's window. A lot of nights at home, Alfred stayed awake peering out from under his comforter because he was positive a monster was going to leap out and gobble him up.

The blond boy stared up at stars. He'd listened to Mattie's cute-but-sometimes-annoying snoring. A body pillow was pressed against his back. Alfred closed his eyes. He could faintly hear the TV going in the living room. The boy sighed and let his drowsy mind drift off.

The room was dim, with a small sliver of light shining in room the hallway. Alfred peered over his covers where his window was. A black, toothless mouth stretched across the wall. Something howled outside. It was hungry. All of a sudden he felt a sucking. His comforter was ripped off the bed and pulled into the mouth.

Wind wiped all around him. Alfred watched to hide under the covers, but they were gone. He started to cry. A lamp was pulled in. His heart was pounding.

Alfred scrambled up to grab the headboard, but the force pulled him from the bed. He fell to the ground with a thump. The little boy scrambled on the wooden floor, trying to find something to hold onto. His fingers dragged across the floor. He sobbed. He didn't want it to get him!

Warm light spilled into his room, his father was standing in the doorway watching him. His face was covered in shadows.

"_Papa_!" He shouted, "_Papa_, help me!"

He slid closer and closer to the mouth. Alfred cried out. A great whooshing picked him up into the air. Alfred grabbed the sides so he wouldn't be sucked into the black hole. He tried to pull himself up, but his hands were too sweaty.

"_Papa aidez-moi_!" He called again. His father sneered and walked out of the door.

"_Non_," Alfred cried, "Don't leave me!" His arms burned from holding on. Alfred's grip slipped and the mouth gobbled him up.

"No!"

Alfred's heart lurched in his chest and his eyes snapped open. His body felt frozen underneath his sheets. Where was he? Where was the mouth? His heart was pounding his chest. Alfred stared at the ceiling. There were glowing things up there.

Oh, stars.

He was still in Mattie's room.

Something wet was dripping into his ear. He touched his ear and realized it was tears. The little boy sniffed and raised his hand and slowly rubbed at his ear. That's when he realized he was laying in something wet.

Alfred's eyes widened.

No.

He frantically patted his pants.

No, this couldn't be happening.

God, what should he do?

The child lay, frozen in the darkness. His urine was quickly cooling. Alfred shivered and quickly came up with a plan. He couldn't stay like this all night so he had to find the laundry room. He could wash the clothes and sheets and no one would know.

Alfred thought back to all the times he'd been in the house before; however he couldn't remember ever seeing their laundry room.

Alfred sat up onto his knees and peered at Mattie. He was curled up around Kumajuju. The boy bit his lip. Maybe he should just try to find it himself? The he shook his head. He wanted to get out of these clothes as soon as possible.

"Mattie, Mattie," he whispered, "Where is your washing machine?"

Mattie grumbled into his bear's fur. Alfred squirmed. His clothes were sticking to him. The sheets smelled.

"Mattie, wake up." He nudged his friend.

"Alfred," Mattie slurred, "Whaddaya want?"

"Where's your washing machine?"

"Downstairs," he blinked focusing on Alfred, "why?"

Alfred blushed, "I had an accident."

Mattie sat up and stared at him before mumbling, "You need to get Papa or Daddy."

"No, it's ok." Alfred said, "I can do it myself."

Mattie crawled down to the end of his bed and slid to the floor. He flicked on the light. Alfred's sheets were dark in the center of the bed.

"You need to get Papa or Daddy," he repeated. "I'll come with you," Mattie told him.

Alfred hesitated. Did he really need to wake them up? It wasn't really that bad. If he was at home he could do it by himself. Actually he'd already have cleaned himself up and fallen asleep again. His cheeks were hot and his legs were cold. A soft hand slipped into his.

"Come on," Mattie said.

Alfred squeezed his hand tightly and shuffled along with him.

The two little boys crept down the dark hallway. There was a small night light outside the bathroom. Alfred didn't remember the hallway being this long. Mattie stopped in front of a room that Alfred had never been in before.

Alfred didn't really want to go in, but Mattie had already nudged the door open.

Mattie shook his father's shoulder.

"Papa, wake up," he said.

Francis moaned and began to stir. A hand went to his eyes, "Matthew?" The adult sat up, "_Etes-vous d'accord?"_

"_Oui, Papa." _Mattie said,_ "C'est Alfred."_

Francis threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

"_Je suis désolé,"_ Alfred sniffed, "I didn't mean to."

"Francis?" Arthur stirred, "What's going on?"

"I've got it," Francis said and kissed Arthur quickly as he stood up, "Go back to sleep."

Arthur sleepily agreed and Francis ushered the little boys out of the room. With the door to the bedroom closed, Francis asked what was going on. Blushing Alfred explained that he'd had a bad dream and had an accident and that he could clean up the mess, but he didn't know where their washing machine was and he was really sorry and—

And then he'd started to cry. Not great big sobs, but little ones that he didn't even bother trying to stop. The salt water cooled his red cheeks.

Dimly he heard Francis giving Matthew instructions, but he had zoned out. His father wasn't there and he lonely and dirty and even though Mattie's parents were great they weren't his and...

"I want my _mere_!" He sobbed.

Francis pulled him into a hug and that just made him cry harder because _his_ papa hadn't hugged him since his mere had died and it was nice but it wasn't the same. Francis hummed and rocked him. He noticed Arthur carrying Mattie past him and a second later he found himself being picked up also.

He heard Francis whispering to him, but he couldn't focus on the words. Francis's voice felt safe and sunk into it. Hands pulled off his wet pants and damp shirt. Something soft was under his feet. Soon the soft words changed into a low melody.

Warm water rolled down his back and a soft washcloth ran over his belly and legs. He was in the shower. A rubber mat was under his feet. Alfred sniffled and watched the water swirl down the drain. Francis sang about green meadows and ponies.

He vaguely heard Arthur's voice mix with the song at one point, then warm hands were patting a fluffy towel over him. Alfred focused on Francis's hair. It was damp and the tips were curling. New pajamas were pulled on him.

Francis carried Alfred back into Mattie's room. The other boy was already sleeping. New green pok-a-dot sheets were on the bed. Francis set Alfred down and the boy crawled in.

"Hush-a-by don't you cry," Francis sang quietly, "go to sleep little baby."

The adult placed a soft kiss on the child's forehead. Sluggishly Alfred grabbed for Snowy under his pillow. He wasn't there.

"Snowy?" he asked.

Francis reached over and searched for something. Then Snowy was being pressed into his hands.

"Sweet dreams Alfred," Mattie's Papa whispered. The adult made to leave but Alfred reached out.

"Francis?" Alfred mumbled, "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Mattie's Papa smiled at him and Alfred thought there might have been tears in his eyes. He sat back down by Alfred's head.

"Of course, baby." A large hand ran through his hair. Alfred rolled over to face him. Francis smiled. With the hand that wasn't holding Snowy, Alfred held Francis's hand. Francis held Alfred's tight and rubbed his thumb in little circles. The boy closed his eyes and quickly drifted off.

He didn't have anymore bad dreams that night.

* * *

AN: The lullaby Francis sings is All The Pretty Little Ponies. You can youtube it if your interested in listening. It's a sweet song. And I'm so thrilled everyone is enjoying this so much! You all rock and every review, favorite and alert makes my heart all warm and melty! Thanks!

**Translations:**

_"Papa aidez-moi" _- Daddy help me.

_"Etes-vous d'accord?" _ - Baby are you ok?

_"Oui, C'est Alfred" -_ Yes, it's Alfred.

_"Je suis désolé" - _I'm sorry.

_Mere_ - mother


	9. Christmas Traditions

The Bonnefoy-Kirkland family was discussing their Christmas day traditions with their guest at dinner that night. They told Alfred that in the morning they had Francis's cinnamon buns and cocoa while they opened gifts. Alfred seemed really excited at the plan. So Francis continued explaining that later they went to the afternoon church together and then had a big ham dinner that night. Unexpectedly at the end of their speech, Alfred stated that he had to go home for part of Christmas.

"Why?" Arthur asked perplexed.

"Because Santa is coming!" Alfred grinned, "And that's where he's gonna bring my gift!"

"Alfred, I'm sure he'll be able to find you here," Arthur said.

"No," Alfred cried, "He didn't find me last time. And it's really important this year."

Arthur stared at the blue-eyed boy. Alfred didn't have Christmas last year? The shocks this boy put his heart through.

"I even wrote him a letter asking for my gift!" Alfred explained proudly.

"What did you ask for, _mon petit_?" Francis asked.

Alfred looked over at Matthew who was sitting on the other side of the table. His son nodded and Alfred took a deep breath and said, "I asked if Santa could bring my mom back."

Francis and Arthur just stared at him again. Arthur choked and started coughing. His eyes burned and he had to turn away.

God no.

His brain stuttered over the thought. The child, he couldn't really think that Santa was bringing his mother back... Could he? Arthur turned back to look at the boy. His small face was hard.

"Francis?" Arthur stood and motioned to his husband.

The two men scurried off into the corner of the kitchen and whispered to each other for a few minutes. They agreed that they would make a stop to Alfred's house in the afternoon, after mass. They couldn't deny the boy a visit to his home on the holiday. Arthur didn't ask Francis what they would do when Alfred's mother wasn't at his home. He couldn't think about that.

As they were walking back Arthur heard Matthew say, "You didn't tell me you were asking for your _maman_."

Arthur watched the little boy nod and then he said the most heartbreaking thing Arthur had heard in a long time. "She's what I want more than anything else. And I don't know how to get her back on my own so maybe Christmas magic can help get her back."

Arthur watched Alfred give his son a tight smile, "Cause you know, I could just save up for my rocket ship and star chart on my own."

Arthur and Francis sat back down and told Arthur their decision. Alfred cheered and thanked them. But Arthur was too wrapped up in his own head to appreciate the first grader's enthusiasm.

Numbly Arthur picked up his utensils and began to eat again. He wanted to sob for Alfred, poor little innocent Alfred. Alfred who apparently still didn't understand that his mother was gone for good that not even Christmas magic could return her to him. Alfred who didn't believe in the tooth fairy anymore, but somewhere still found it in him to believe in Christmas. Arthur wanted so badly for his wish to come true. More than he'd ever wanted a wish to come true before. If he had the power in him to make it happen...

He sawed at his meat furiously. He felt his husband's eyes on him before Francis led the boys in a rowdy discussion in French. Arthur smiled even though he felt his heart breaking. How could a father let his child become so lost? He understood loosing a spouse was hard, Arthur knew if he were to loose Francis he'd be a mess, but Matthew would be equally as upset! How could Alfred's idiotic father not see that?!

Arthur frowned. When he met this man he'd have quite a few things to say to him.

Maybe he should make a list.

* * *

Alfred scrambled out of the car before it'd stopped. Francis and Arthur made Matthew sit in his booster seat but they didn't have anything for Alfred so he just sat in the regular seat. The boy scrambled up the sideway. He could hear Mattie's Daddy calling from behind him, but he didn't stop. His _maman_ was in there! Alfred pushed open the red front door and called into the house, "_Maman_?"

He knew she'd been waiting for him all morning. Alfred thought she'd probably gotten bored. He could see it now. She probably would have looked all over the shelves for a book to read. His father hadn't kept any of her books, but she would grab The Great Gatsby his father's favorite and read it for a while. Maybe she'd be curled up under the afgan on the couch.

"Maman?" He called again. He peered around the living room. She wasn't sitting on the couch. Maybe decided to make peppermint bark. That'd always been Alfred and her favorite Christmas treat, but they didn't have the ingredients in the house. Alfred thought in his head from when Santa dropped her off to now she'd probably be cooking. He tore of into the kitchen.

"Alfred?" a voice said. Alfred whipped his head around. The kitchen was empty. He ran into the bathroom, empty. His bedroom was also empty.

"Alfred!" The voice called again. Alfred stared at the door to his father's room. It was the only one left. He pushed the door open.

"_Maman_?" he whispered, looking around the dark room, "Are you here?"

His father's bed was made. The corners tucked in neatly. A potted plant sat in the corner dying. Alfred flicked on the lamp. Colorful ties lay out on his dresser. His closet was half open. Alfred ran over to it and pulled at the door.

"Found you!" He exclaimed smiling. Suit jackets swung back and forth on hangers. Alfred blinked and pushed them aside. His bottom lip trembled.

"Where are you?" He asked the clothes. A tear tumbled down his cheek.

"Alfred?"

The boy turned around to see Mattie's Daddy standing in the doorway.

"She's not here," he said.

"Where is she?" He asked, "Does she not want to be with me anymore?"

He felt broken. He couldn't catch his breath and his heart hurt and his stomach hurt. He felt like he was falling even though he was standing up.

Arthur hugged him up, shh-ing him. Alfred didn't hug him back. "What's wrong with Santa?" He asked into Arthur's chest, "Why isn't she here?"

"Oh Alfred," he whispered, "It isn't Santa's fault."

Alfred pulled away from Arthur's hug. He didn't want Mattie's Daddy to hug him. He wanted his _Maman_! He slammed the door shut behind him and ran for the car. If it wasn't Santa's fault then it was Matthew's! He was the one who told him Santa would bring _Maman_ back! He was a liar!

The cement stretched out under his feat. Sunlight shone down on the Bonnefoy-Kirkland's car. The driver's door was open and Alfred could see Francis cuddling with Matthew and whispering to him.

Knives ripped through Alfred's heart. Why did Mattie get to have both his Papa _and_ his Daddy and Alfred couldn't have either? Something clenched around his heart, squeezing it. Alfred narrowed his eyes the launched himself at Matthew.

"I hate you!" He yelled. He yanked on the boy's long, girly hair. Matthew flinched and Francis's hands came down to try to separate the two. Alfred ignored him in favor of punching Matthew in the stomach.

Matthew raised his hands to protect himself. Francis was trying to push Matthew into the passenger seat, but Alfred dug his nails into the boy. Alfred hoped it bled. He wouldn't let Matthew go. His purple eyes were red rimmed with tears. Why did he get to cry? He still had both his parents! He wasn't allowed to cry!

"I hate you! You said Santa would bring everything on my Christmas list!" He screamed.

"Alfred!" Arthur yelled. Alfred was pulled away from Matthew. Matthew cringed away from Alfred.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Alfred screamed from Arthur's arms.

Matthew just cried in Francis's lap. Alfred sneered at him.

When they got home Alfred stormed into the house ahead of everyone else. As he walked into the living room he saw a picture of Matthew, Francis and Arthur sitting on the coffee table. Alfred glared at it and flipped it facedown.

He was going to head to the bathroom to hide in the shower when he saw another. Matthew was laughing at him. He was sitting on Francis's shoulders, laughing. Arthur was grinning clinging to Francis's side. Alfred planted the image down on the table. The next picture got the same treatment. And the next. And the next.

Fat tears fell down the boy's cheeks. Someone was screaming. It was so loud. Emptiness was filling up his heart. He felt like he was falling. Like Alice into Wonderland.

"Down, down we fall." He whispered through the tears.

Ice crept under his skin. Alfred slid down the wall. He curled his arms around his legs and tucked his head in. More tears fell and he ignored them. He pretended that it didn't matter. His tears made dark patches on his jeans.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered to himself over and over, "It doesn't matter."

* * *

When Francis came in the first thing he noticed were the pictures. All of the beautiful family photos were turned down. The second thing he noticed was the little boy crying against the wall. He and Arthur shared a look before Francis headed over to the child. There were only so many emotional ups and downs a man could handle on Christmas day and Francis was sure Arthur was maxed out.

Arthur picked Matthew up and brought him into the kitchen.

"But why is Alfred so upset?" Matthew asked.

"Let's talk about it while we start dinner. Ok baby?"

Francis cringed.

A soft rustling brought him out of his thoughts of imminent smoke damage and burnt ham. He slid down next to the boy with his back to the wall. Alfred was huddled in a ball, his face tucked firmly against his knees. Francis wasn't sure how to begin. He didn't know what it was like to lose a mother. His was living in Paris. So Francis just sat next to the boy. How did one talk about _l'amour_ when the adult that was suppose to be giving Alfred _l'amour_ had died and the other refused? How?

For the next few minutes, Francis sat next to the boy trying to figure out what to say. His nose twitched at the smell of brunt food coming from the kitchen. The backs of the picture frames stuck into the air like the tails of baby ducks. The Christmas tree twinkled in the corner with opened gifts piled up underneath it.

Francis stared at the small pile off to the side of the tree. He and Arthur had been on a frantic search the last few days to get gifts for Alfred. They knew the child wasn't expecting anything, but they couldn't, in good mind, open piles of gifts in front of a little boy who was getting nothing.

A weight fell against his shoulder. The adult looked down to see Alfred leaning against his arm. Blonde hair was sticking in a hundred different directions. Francis wrapped an arm around the child and took a deep breath.

The smoke smell got worse and Francis had to desperately resist the urge to leap to his feet to save the food. A little hand wormed into his and he looked down to see Alfred staring out at the living room. Maybe he was looking at the gifts like Francis had been.

Plumes of smoke started wafting out of the kitchen and Matthew started giggling widely. Alfred looked up to him, "Maybe we should go save the Christmas dinner from Arthur?"

Francis smiled, "_Oui_, whatever is left of dinner."

Alfred gave him a heavy smile and jumped to his feet. Before Francis had even stood up, Alfred had dashed into the kitchen hollering at Arthur and Matthew.

Francis brushed the back of his pants off. He wasn't sure if he'd helped at all. The boy had stopped crying, but he was able to hide so much, what was to say he wasn't just covering his feelings up?

Francis picked up one of the photos. It was from when the family had gone to see the Rockette's Christmas Spectacular the past year. Right before the picture had been taken the red headed Rocket had leaned over and kissed Arthur on the cheek. His husband had blushed all the way to his roots. Francis had reared back in shocked and Matthew's grin was the widest Francis had seen it. It was a really good time.

The man put it back down. He wondered what Alfred had done last Christmas? A screeching noise sounded and he heard Arthur curse. This time both boys were laughing and he could hear Matthew calling for him. There was a crunching noise and the smoke detector stopped.

Francis smiled, "Don't worry boy's! Papa's coming to save the dinner!"

Pushing back the door to the kitchen, Francis strode into the smoky darkness of the kitchen with only two things on his mind, Alfred Jones and how to save Christmas dinner.


	10. Adjustments

The two men cuddled on the bed. Like so many other nights they were talking about the kids instead of doing fun, romantic, _adult_ activities. But Francis wasn't dozing. He was fastidiously listening to Arthur.

"We didn't punish Alfred for his tantrum on Christmas," Arthur muttered. He was snuggled against Francis's side. Francis carded his fingers through Arthur's short, wheat locks.

"The child had just lost his mother for the second time... wasn't that punishment enough?" Francis asked. Matthew had been able to forgive his friend, why should they rehash the problem?

"It sets a bad precedent Francis," Arthur sighed, "He should know that it is unacceptable to hit and say that he hates someone."

"He's still not our child, Arthur, we didn't intervene about the tooth fairy. Don't you think the same rules applies here?" Francis said.

"NO!" Arthur exclaimed and pulled away from Francis. Francis looked down at his husband with ruffled hair and a fierce glare on his face. God, he was sexy when he was angry. He pulled the smaller man back to his side. He copped a feel at Arthur's chest and his husband pushed him away scowling.

"He hit my son," Arthur said, "He told my baby that he was hated. That is unacceptable behavior for any little boy living under our roof."

"He didn't mean it _mon chou_," Francis cajoled as he tried to grope Arthur again.

"I know he didn't, but..." Arthur huffed, he seemed at a loss trying to explain his feelings. "Can't we at least go over house rules so it doesn't happen again?"

Francis nodded, "Of course we can," he said, "But let iron out the details tomorrow."

"And make him give Matthew an apology," Arthur continued on ignoring Francis.

Francis nodded again, "Yes _mon chou_."

"Thank you," Arthur murmured.

Arthur smiled up at him and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Francis's neck. The Frenchman moaned. Happy wife, happy life. He rolled Arthur onto his back, grinning.

* * *

The quiet boy was breaking the rules. Mattie crouched outside the kitchen door, trying to listen to Papa and Daddy's conversation with Alfred. He had been sent to play in his room, but he wanted to know what was going on so he didn't go up to his room to play. His knees hurt and his back was aching from his crouched position. He shuffled a little to get into a more comfortable position. These conversations usually took a long time.

This had happened a few times since Alfred had arrived, Papa and Daddy would tell Mattie to go and play or do homework or shower. At first Mattie did, but he didn't like that his Papa and Daddy were spending time with Alfred without him. So he decided to investigate.

Even with his ear pressed to the wood, the conversation was low, too low for Matthew to hear what was going. People were shuffling around. Then he heard Alfred yell. Gently Matthew pushed the door open. His friend was clenching his fists at his side. Alfred's back was to Mattie so he couldn't see what his face looked like.

"You aren't the boss of me!" Alfred shouted and stomped his foot, "And if I want to I can leave whenever I wanted to!"

Papa had never liked it when "little boys yelled" and asked Alfred to think carefully before he said anything else. Alfred huffed, but didn't keep yelling. The conversation got quiet again. Matthew leaned against the door and it creaked open. He froze and held his breath.

The kitchen exploded in shouting again.

"I'm NOT a baby! I won't do it!" Alfred hollered. Alfred turned towards the door and he looked as mad as Papa did when Daddy accidentally dyed his white silk shirt pink.

"Alfred Jones," Daddy said, "You stop right there young man."

Alfred froze.

"You can't make me!" he said and started to leave again.

"I'm going to count to three. If you're not back at this table by three you are going to be a very sorry little boy," Daddy said.

Alfred hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

Matthew wanted him to go back. He knew what happened when Daddy got to three. You sat in the naughty corner but sometimes they'd give you other punishments too! One time Mattie couldn't have maple syrup for a week and another time he had to go to bed early the entire weekend. Three was the worst number ever.

"One," Daddy said. Alfred turned around and kept walking. Mattie bit his lip.

"Two," Daddy counted. Alfred back peddled towards the door a few steps. He kept watching Mattie's Daddy though. Maybe Mattie should have gone to do his homework like Papa said.

"Three," Daddy ended. Mattie was sweating. He wasn't even the one getting in trouble and he was nervous!

Daddy marched foreword and swung Alfred up. His friend screamed and thrashed. Daddy snagged the naughty stool with his foot and plopped Alfred down in it. Alfred was facing him.

"We've talked about this Alfred," Daddy sighed, "The Pull-Ups will keep you dry through the night. Wouldn't you rather wake up in a dry bed?"

Mattie tilted his head and tried not to giggle. He guessed it made sense. Although it was kinda awkward. Alfred was six years old. He shouldn't still need diapers. But, Mattie thought, it'd be nice to not be woken up every night cause Daddy or Papa had to change Alfred's sheets.

Alfred glared and crossed his arms. Mattie winced at the sass Alfred was giving Daddy.

"We just want what is best for you," Daddy explained slowly, "Now you think about your behavior. You do not yell at people and you do not say no to Francis or myself."

Arthur turned Alfred around so he was facing the wall. Daddy went back to the table. His parents were talking quietly and watching Alfred. His friend was fidgeting on the seat. Mattie just hoped he'd stay there.

After a few minutes, Alfred turned around and got up from the stool. Matthew sucked in a deep breath. Papa didn't look away from Daddy, but he called out, "Alfred Jones, I expect your derrière is still glued to that chair, _oui_?"

Matthew slunk away from the door before he heard Alfred's response. He couldn't watch Alfred get in more trouble.

* * *

Raining was beating against the windows. It'd been sleeting for days and both boys felt they had exhausted the inside toys. Alfred suggested a movie and Matthew agreed. The two boys slid down the banister in search of Arthur.

They stumbled into the kitchen pushing at each other and laughing. Alfred had Mattie in a headlock and was trying to get him to say, "Alfred is the number one, bestest person in the whole wide world." Mattie was being stubborn though. Alfred dragged his captive over to Mattie's Daddy who was working on papers at the kitchen table.

"Excuse me, Mattie's Daddy!" Alfred exclaimed.

Arthur put his pen down and looked up. He chuckled at the sight. Mattie flailed a bit and Alfred patted his head.

"Alfred whatever you are going to tell me probably will go over a lot better if you release Matthew's head."

Alfred huffed but released his prisoner. He smiled charmingly at Arthur.

"Well we were wondering," Alfred trailed off.

"if it'd be possible for us," Matthew continued.

"to watch a movie." They both ended together. Alfred grinned at Mattie. They hadn't planned finishing for each other, but Alfred was sure it was cute and anything was acceptable if it helped the movie cause!

Arthur glanced outside. Matthew nudged him and Alfred made his eyes suitably wide and pleading. He knew Mattie was doing the same thing next to him.

Mattie's Daddy pulled them both in for a hug. Alfred cuddled into him. He loved all the hugs Arthur gave out.

"Alright but pick a movie together. Ok boys?"

"Course Daddy!" Mattie said and scampered into the living room. Alfred ran right after him, hollering thanks over his shoulder.

"Whaddaya wanna watch?" Matthew said in a rush, his eyes scanning over the DVDs. Alfred sank to the ground, trailing his fingers over the colorful boxes. He only recognized a few.

"Whatever you want," he chirped.

"Daddy said pick together," Matthew said, "What's your favorite?"

Alfred thought for a moment, "Well I really like Despicable Me and Finding Nemo is funny, but kinda sad."

Matthew stared at him, "We watched those in class. What about something else?"

Alfred blushed and stared at the movies, picking one at random, "Well A Bug's Life is good too."

"Oh yeah I really like Flick!"

Alfred nodded, looking at the box trying to figure out if Flick was a name or an actual flick?

"Don't you like Flick?" Mattie asked. Alfred shrugged, not feeling like talking for once. After his _Maman_ had died his father didn't let him watch baby movies anymore. It'd been so long that he couldn't really remember the ones he used to watch anymore.

"You haven't seen it, have you?"

Alfred chewed his thumbnail staring at the ground. After a moment he shook his head.

"Have you seen any of them?" Mattie asked.

"Just the ones we watched in class," Alfred mumbled.

"Oh," Mattie mumbled, "Well I really like Toy Story."

Alfred stayed quiet. He'd never seen it before. Mattie continued on, "It's even got a Space Ranger in it! And aliens! Wanna watch that one?"

Alfred shrugged. He liked space stuff. "Yeah ok."

Mattie put the movie in and the two of them snuggled down on the couch, under a blanket. As the movie began Matthew wiggled around exclaiming, "To infinity and beyond!"

Alfred just stared at him before turning to the screen. He'd find out soon enough. The two boys were sucked into the world of Toy Story until Arthur came in.

"Matthew!" Arthur exclaimed, "What did I say?"

Alfred scrambled up off Matthew's lap to look at Mattie's angry father.

"I didn't do anything!" Matthew said. Alfred just stayed silent.

"I told you to pick a movie _together_. Did you convince Alfred to watch Toy Story?"

"Nooo," Matthew drawled out. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Matthew fidgeted.

"Ok maybe, kind of..." Mattie sighed, "but Daddy, he hadn't seen it before and he said wanted too!"

"Matthew Williams, what have we talked about?" Arthur demanded.

"Not manipulating other people."

"But, but Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed, "I really did want to see it!"

Arthur blinked down at him, "You're watching Toy Story."

Both boys nodded.

"You hadn't seen Toy Story," Arthur-Daddy said slowly. Alfred nodded. The adult took a deep breath, "Ok, but next time we pick a different movie, ok?"

Alfred shrugged.

"Do you have a favorite Alfred?" Arthur asked. Alfred stayed quiet.

"What about Peter Pan?" Arthur continued.

Alfred shrugged again and mumbled, "Haven't seen it."

"What about Alice in Wonderland?"

Alfred burrowed into Matthew. His friend shook his head and whispered, "Daddy likes all the movies from England better than the others."

"And rightly so! British fantasy is the best."

Mattie nodded as if this was something he'd heard a million times before. Arthur sat himself down on the couch in between both boys, "Well what do you two think to a movie marathon?"

Alfred grinned, "I think that sounds awesome! Can we watch one with a hero? Heroes are the bestest!"

Arthur laughed and nodded, "Have you seen the Incredibles?"

"Oh yeah! That's a good one!" Matthew exclaimed.

Alfred shook his head no.

"It's all about superheroes!" Matthew said, waving his hands, "It's about a WHOLE family of heroes!"

Alfred grinned, "Yeah! Can we watch that one next?! Then Peter Pan?!"

Arthur cuddled with him and Mattie, "That sounds perfect."

"What about dinner?" Matthew asked.

"We'll tell Papa to pick up something on his way home and have a picnic."

Both boys cheered and Arthur wiggled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. Alfred snuggled into Arthur side.

"Hi love," Arthur said into the phone, "The kids and I are having a Disney movie marathon. Yes that means none of _that_ tonight!" Arthur laughed and his cheeks turned red, "Can you pick up something on your way home? Ehh whatever."

Arthur looked down at him then over to Matthew, "Yeah, that should be an experience. Make sure you get some non-spicy stuff too though."

Arthur gave one laugh before ending the call. Alfred dragged a blanket up and burrowed into Arthur's side. His heart felt all warm and smooshy. As the movie started Alfred popped his thumb in his mouth. He never wanted to go home.


	11. Giving In

Winter break was over. Alfred hadn't been ready to go back to school routine, but Mattie's Daddy said he didn't have a choice. The classroom was hushed with only the sound of pages turning. It was quiet reading time, Alfred's least favorite time of the day. He had gotten a book about space from the library. It had lots of pictures of the stars in it. Stars that were exploding, stars that were imploding, stars that had died and stars that looked like great big eyes. He traced the outline of one of the stars with his finger tip. It'd be so cool to see those for real.

A crackle broke the stillness. Ms. Paige picked up the phone. She spoke for a moment before coming over to him and whispering quietly, "Alfred, pack your things up and grab your coat. You going down to the office for early dismissal."

Alfred tilted his head. That was strange. Some of the other kids were staring. But Alfred wasn't going to argue if it got him out of quiet reading. He quickly packed his books away.

He turned to Mattie and said, "I'll see you later, ok?"

Mattie nodded completely engrossed in the tales of Percy Jackson. Quiet reading time was Mattie's favorite time of the day.

Alfred grabbed his coat and hurried out of the class.

The office was busy with people talking on phones and rushing around. Someone was looking out the window talking on his cell phone rapidly. Alfred didn't see Arthur or Francis. The boy walked up to the desk and waited for the secretary to notice him.

"Alfred Jones?" she asked.

"Yup! I'm here for early dismissal," he exclaimed. The man with the phone hung up and turned around.

"Hey Alfred," the man said.

Alfred cocked his head, "Papa?" Alfred said, "What are you doing here?"

His father smiled and didn't reply. Alfred shivered. He didn't like his father's smile. The secretary made him sign a few papers then Alfred was being ushered out the door. His father was quiet as the got into the car.

Alfred wasn't sure if he should be excited or scared. Did his father know he'd been staying with Mattie's family? Would Alfred get in trouble if he mentioned it? His father had been gone longer than he was supposed to be. It was Thursday. He said he'd be back Sunday.

Alfred climbed into the backseat of the Mercedes and buckled the adult seat belt. He tucked the strap under his arm. He started talking about everything he'd been doing at school recently like he normally would when his father came home. Alfred didn't want his father to think something weird was going on.

* * *

Alfred had gotten picked up from school. Papa and Daddy hadn't said they were picking up Alfred early. Mattie's stomach was twisting the whole bus ride home. It could've been because he had to sit next to Natasha Braginski. He'd gotten so use to sitting with Alfred he'd forgotten she used to sit with him. He scrambled off the bus quickly.

The little boy flew up to his the room. His tummy was in knots. He smelled tea as he ran through the house. Maybe Alfred had a doctor's appointment and he was upstairs resting? Mattie ripped the door open. No Alfred. He pulled the bathroom door open. He wasn't there either. Maybe Daddy knew.

"Daddy?" Matthew yelled, "Where are you?"

"I'm down here!" Daddy called back.

Mattie ran into the kitchen. Daddy was sitting at the kitchen table with a bunch of papers and a cup of tea. Matthew dropped his backpack and reached for his Daddy. Daddy put his arm around Mattie half distracted. His daddy sipped his tea and marked papers. Mattie squeezed Kuma. He also wanted a hug.

"Just give me a second baby," Daddy said, smiling at him, "I'm almost done."

Matthew whined and made Kumabooboo sit on the table. Mattie wiggled.

"So how was your day?" Daddy asked, "Did anything fun happen in school?"

Daddy stood with his cup and dropped a kiss on Mattie's head. Matthew shook his head no and pulled Kuma into his arms. A car horn blared outside. He wanted Daddy again.

"Alfred got picked up from school today," Mattie blurted out. He couldn't wait anymore for Daddy to tell him where Alfred was. He had to know. "Where is he?" Mattie demanded.

Daddy stilled before turning over his shoulder, "What do you mean he got picked up from school?" He looked around the kitchen, searching for a little boy who wasn't there.

"During quiet reading time the office called and said he was getting early dismissal," Mattie said, "And I was reading so I wasn't payin' attention," Mattie started to cry, "And I looked upstairs and he's not here or in the living room or in the potty."

Daddy went pale. Mattie felt like he was going to throw up. The kitchen was quiet because Alfred wasn't there demanding an afterschool snack.

"Where is he?" Mattie gasped.

Daddy crouched down in front of him and pulled him up into a hug. Mattie buried his face into Daddy's neck. Daddy rocked him for a moment and it felt nice. A warm hand rubbed his back and Mattie felt himself calming down.

"I don't know where Alfred is baby. Did the school say who was picking him up?"

Mattie shook his head and rubbed his snotty nose on Daddy's shirt.

"No, but only parents or 'mergency contacts can pick kids up from school," Mattie explained.

Immediately after he said it he realized. His father! Mattie tried to pull himself away from Daddy, but his grip was too strong. Mattie looked up, his Daddy's face had lots of wrinkles on it.

"Daddy, Daddy, let me down!" Mattie said, "We have to get Alfred!"

"What?" Daddy said.

"We have to get Alfred! His Daddy's got him! We have to go save him!"

Daddy said it was ok, but he didn't do anything. Mattie let out a wail, "DADDY! We've got to get Alfred!"

Maybe Daddy didn't realize how bad Alfred's Daddy was. But Mattie wasn't going to let him forget.

"His daddy doesn't pack Alfred lunch for school and he doesn't tell Alfred stories and he doesn't make Alfred wear his Pull-Ups at bedtime and he doesn't cuddle him after a nightmare and, and, and!" Mattie trailed off into sobs.

Daddy rocked him and patted his back. Mattie hiccupped a few times, but his tears slowed down. Daddy started singing the hush-a-bye song. The one Alfred liked so much. That set Mattie off again.

"Baby it's going to be okay. Daddy is going to make sure Alfred's Daddy takes care of Alfred."

"But what if he doesn't?! What if he lies?!" Mattie wheezed, "He's a bad man Daddy! We can't trust him with responsibil'y of Alfred."

Daddy started to move. Mattie whined and clung tighter. Daddy stilled and began to sing a different song. Mattie calmed. The boy was shifted and then he felt them moving again. Daddy sat down and Mattie looked up to see them sitting on the couch. Daddy ran his fingers through Mattie's hair. The two cuddled like that for a while.

"Are you feeling calmer love?" Daddy asked.

Mattie nodded.

"Okay this is what we're going to do."

"You and I are going to call Papa and ask him to go over and see if Alfred is ok. If he's not then Papa will bring back him here."

"What if he's happy with his Daddy though?" Mattie whispered.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Daddy replied and tapped his nose, "Okay love?"

Mattie nodded and listened quietly as Daddy called Papa. It was gonna be okay he, told himself. Papa was gonna get Alfred and he was gonna come home and they were gonna be a family again.

* * *

The car was packed, boxes were stacked in the trunk and Alfred's room was empty. He scuffed his shoes on the floor. He didn't want to leave Boston. He wanted to go back to Mattie's house. He wanted Mattie's Daddy and Papa to rock him when he had nightmares and make him lunch and watch Disney movies. He pouted on the bare bed.

"Alfred, let's go!"

Snowy was in his sweatshirt pocket. He gripped at it tightly. His window was smirking at him. His father's feet stamped down the hallway. Alfred wanted Francis to make him hot cocoa. Alfred drummed his feet against the side of the bed. The bedroom door was pushed open.

"We're leaving," his father said. "Get in the car."

His father's forehead was wrinkled. He was wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt. He had a cooler in one hand and his cell phone in the other. The cooler meant they'd be driving all night and probably through breakfast. Alfred went through his mental map. From Boston a drive like that would get them to Chicago if they were going west; Charleston, South Carolina if they were going south and maybe Memphis if they were going southwest.

None of those places sounded nearly as good as Boston.

The boy sniffed, but left the room. This wasn't the bedroom he was gonna miss.

* * *

The controlled panic in his husband's voice was not what Francis wanted to hear at the end of a long day. His tired mind instantly snapped into overdrive, figuring out the fastest route to the hospital. But when Arthur had tightly told him that he had to go check on Alfred Francis' brain stuttered.

"Isn't Alfred at home?" He asked as he walked out of the office ignoring his secretary's frantic hand waving.

"Yes, he is at _his_ house." Arthur had stressed, "And Matthew and I would both really appreciate it if you would go over now."

He could hear sniffling coming through the phone.

"Is Matthew crying?"

"Yes, you bloody frog." His Arthur sounded like he was going to start crying any minute, "Now will you please get going?"

"Don't worry love, I'm already in the car." The car rumbled to life.

"Thank you," Arthur sighed. "See Papa's going right now."

"Can I talk to him?" Mattie asked. Francis ran a red light. He glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure no police appeared, then went faster.

"Papa?" his Matthew's little voice came on.

"_Salut, mon petit_," Francis said.

"Papa even if Alfred says he's happy you gotta bring him home. Because Alfred's father doesn't care for him like we do 'n he's my bestest friend so he can't be hurtin' anymore. Ok?" Matthew said in the fastest rush of French Francis had heard since he'd left Paris. Francis didn't know what to say to him. Francis half wondered if Matthew was speaking in French to keep Arthur from understanding. Then he realized he'd have to shelf that issue until after this one was resolved.

"I'll do my best darling. Now I've got to go. I love you."

"I love you to the moon and back," Mattie lisped, "Bye."

"Bye baby," Francis said. He wanted to sigh. They'd only recently broken Mattie of sucking his thumb. Another issue to deal with later. He focused on the road. The faster he got there, the faster he could straighten this all out.

When he pulled into Alfred's drive he was glad he had left immediately. A Mercedes Benz G-Class was in the driveway packed full with boxes. Francis had only seen the car once before. Alfred was trailing behind his father, his blue backpack hanging from one shoulder. He looked dazed.

Francis threw the car in park and leapt from the car. "Alfred!" Francis called.

The little boy looked up from his feet and grinned, "Francis!" He called. Francis swept the boy up into a hug. He didn't put the child back down.

Francis addressed him in French, "What's going on?"

"My father said we're moving." Alfred clung tightly to Francis's neck, "I don't want to move. I want to stay here with you and Mattie and Arthur."

Francis rubbed circles into the boys back, "Of course you do baby."

"Why are _you_ here _again_?" Mr. Jones sneered, striding over.

Alfred looked confusedly between the two men. Francis grit his teeth. Alfred didn't know about the first time he'd met Mr. Jones. He'd rather it stay that way.

"I thought we discussed this Mr. Jones." Francis shifted the boy on his hip.

"Agreement is over." Mr. Jones smirked, "We're leaving."

Francis wished he had Arthur here and not Alfred. Alfred didn't need to be here for this.

"You want to leave, that's fine." Francis said unwilling to budge on their earlier agreement, "But then you have to sign the consent form we gave you."

"I don't have it," Mr. Jones spit.

Francis gave him a razor sharp smile, "Well I just so happen to have a copy. Would you like me to get it for you?"

The man glared. Francis stared him down. He'd like to pull this man's intestines out through his ears. His look must have conveyed his feelings because after a minute the man sneered but nodded.

Francis tossed his hair and strolled back to the car. He opened the door and dropped Alfred in the front seat.

"I want you to stay here," he whispered to the child.

"Why?" Alfred asked, reaching for him again. Francis gave the boy a short cuddle as he answered.

"Because," Francis thought for a moment, "it's cold outside and you don't have the right jacket on."

Alfred picked at his sweater. "Ok," he murmured.

Francis kissed the top of boy's head before heading back to Mr. Jones with the paper that released Mr. Jones of parental rights to one Alfred Fredrick Jones. Francis thought back to how this began.

It'd been his husband's latest in-bed project, gathering information on Alfred and his elusive father. When The Tempest had been shelved Francis knew it was serious. In the past the only thing came between his British lover and his literature was Mattie.

Arthur started looking into Alfred by doing a google search of his name. That had generated four and a half million more results than they needed. The next day Arthur weaseled Alfred's father's name out of the child.

It turned out that's all he needed to get a wealth of information on the man. Mr. Noah Easton Jones was the sole owner of J.P. Knightly and worth an estimated 4.1 million dollars. Mr. Jones had lost his wife tragically in a car accident two years ago and had since devoted himself to his company.

The man spent the majority of his time hopping from city to city every few months, apparently checking on his business and enjoying the local nightlife. A few weekends out of the year he was believed to go on 'spiritual retreats.' That was the only time the party-boy demanded privacy and the paparazzi generously gave it to him.

There was no mention of a son in any of the articles.

It didn't take Arthur and Francis long to realize these "spiritual retreats" were actually the time he spent with Alfred. Francis didn't want Arthur to do it, but his husband quickly set up a timeline for Noah Jones to see how much time Alfred actually had his father around. The results were heartbreaking. Arthur found the longest stretch "that fucking bastard" spent with his son was five days. That occurrence he'd been gone for thee weeks and was gone again for two weeks after. Needless to say, Arthur was spitting nails after that.

Neither he nor Arthur were willing to ignore the abuse anymore. Francis and Arthur had sent the boys off to the Oxenstierna household and confronted Mr. Jones the very first night he was due back. The men had threatened to go to the media with the story that the party-boy millionaire had a son he was neglecting in the suburbs while he was living an extravagant lifestyle in the big city.

They knew it would be the perfect ammunition to use against the attention whore. Francis had hoped it would be enough to get the man to stay in the area more often and if not at least provide more for Alfred when he did leave. The bastard had millions and he didn't even keep a stocked pantry for his son!

Sure enough Mr. Jones had agreed to their proposal. But Arthur wasn't satisfied with just that. Francis and his husband blackmailed Mr. Jones into agreeing to give up his parental rights to Alfred if he decided on moving out of the area. Neither man would allow this to continue if they couldn't be there for Alfred.

Francis snapped back to the present when Mr. Jones snatched the document out of his hand. The dark haired man signed the form with a platinum fountain pen and a smile. Francis sneered at him.

"I'll get his bags then," Mr. Jones said cheerfully. He threw open the car door and pulled out three boxes.

"I didn't think it'd take you so long," Mr. Jones said as he handed over the boxes, "but I'm glad I didn't have to leave the boy in front of your house on my way out of town. And faxing you the forms would have been tedious."

Francis' stomach dropped. His head swam at the suddenly the realization of what Mr. Jones was doing washed over him. That fucking bastard knew Arthur and Francis would take Alfred if he left.

"You fucking bastard," Francis swore.

Fucking hell, he was deliberately leaving. He was abandoning Alfred. Francis glanced over to his car. The blond child was sitting on his knees in the passenger seat. His face was pressed against the glass.

He could not deck Alfred's father in front of him. He couldn't.

"Well that'll be it then." Mr. Jones said, ignoring Francis' curse. "I'll be on my way."

"Don't you want to say good-bye to Alfred?" Francis demanded. He saw what was happening, but he couldn't believe it, couldn't imagine leaving behind his Matthew in the care of strangers, not even well meaning ones.

Mr. Jones shook his head no and that was the last straw. Francis swung, catching the bastard right in the jaw and dropping him like a rock. Francis stared at him on the ground. He wanted to keep beating him into the pavement, but he could hear Alfred yelling in the car.

He couldn't beat his father in front of him.

But god did he wanted to.

Jones picked himself up and brushed himself off. He ignored both Francis and the screaming child and got in his car. The bastard quickly backed out and cheerfully waved as he drove away in his Mercedes.

Francis grit his teeth and hauled the boxes into the trunk. He could hear Alfred bawling through the closed door.

"Shit, fuck, fuck!" He cursed behind the opened trunk. He rubbed at his forehead willing himself not to rage and cry at the same time. He had a scared little boy to take care of in the car.

Francis stuffed the release form in his back pocket and got in the car. Alfred turned to him, screaming and punching. Francis let him, wishing he could do the same.

* * *

AN: I'm driving to Texas from New York for the Thanksgiving Holiday so I won't be posting for the next week or so. But I made this chapter long so it can tide you over! Have a good holiday!


	12. Three Step Process

Alfred could breath fire.

Even though he'd never seen it Alfred knew that it wouldn't be red fire, but black, peppered with cutting words and acid. It would pour out of him and then he'd feel better. The boy had never seen his black fire because whenever he opened his mouth it got tangled up in a ball in his throat.

Alfred hated himself for that.

So the fire built up inside him. Every day that he couldn't get it out Alfred pinched himself in the shower and threw up behind the dumpsters after lunch. It made him feel a little bit better and the blackness was able to get out.

He needed it to get out.

Alfred was a dragon from old fairy tales. When Arthur came to him at night after a bad dream, the child turned away from him, telling him he wasn't wanted even if he couldn't say it. When Francis made chocolate-chocolate chip cookies because he knew they were Alfred's favorite, Alfred threw them to the ground. He had to get it out, had to get it out of him. His skin was too small for all the fire inside him.

What he really wanted to do was scream, to spew all of the darkness out that way. But it just got stuck and not being able to get it out just made the fire grow bigger in him.

He hated it when Mattie's parents tried to talk with him. The child didn't care if they were "legally" his parents now too. Alfred wouldn't call them that. Maybe secretly he'd wanted that before... everything had happened. But not anymore.

He hated Francis for making his father go away. Hitting was bad. It was wrong. Alfred knew that, Francis knew that, even his father knew that! Francis should never have hit his father. If Francis hadn't hit his father he would have let Alfred go with him. Alfred knew.

But if his father came back Alfred would be better. He'd show him. The boy would eat less, study more and the next trip his father had to take Alfred wouldn't ask even once if he could go with him. Alfred would be good. So good. Alfred could be the hero again. If only his father came back, but he hadn't.

So Alfred breathed fire at the world.

* * *

She usually didn't have to do mid-quarter parent-teacher conferences. Not since she'd moved down from sixth grade. But there was nothing usual about Alfred Jones. Over the last few weeks he'd become non-verbally defiant, stopped handing in his homework and had been sent to isolated lunch more than any other student. It was such a extreme change from the sweet albeit talkative child from before the holidays so she felt drastic measures were needed.

When Paige had gone to call Alfred's father she'd gotten the operator telling her the number had been disconnected. That was when the stone in her stomach started to get heavier. Something wasn't right.

Paige conference with the office and found out that in the last three weeks Alfred had, had a guardianship change. And no one had thought to inform her.

The teacher was angry with the school. How could she take care of her kids if they didn't keep her up to date on important matters like this?! She could have spoken with Alfred _before_ it'd gotten this bad.

Paige had gotten in contact with Francis and Arthur Kirkland-Bonnefoy, Alfred's new guardians, and set up a conference. The only good thing about this entire mess was that she was familiar with the men since their son, Matthew, was also in her class.

She'd prepped the notes about Alfred and pulled all of his school work so she could show it to the new guardians. Pages rustled and Paige decided that the school felt more like a library after the sun had gone down. All the brightly colored crafts and posters were hushed by the silver moon and their were no children chatting or giggling in the halls.

The conference began unexpectedly.

"We know Alfred's been having a lot of problems. Everything had been a battle since his father left," Mr. Kirkland grumbled after they'd been seated, "We're trying to handle it."

Paige's eyes widened. She hadn't realized that Alfred had been given up. She wrote that down on the pad of yellow lined paper she'd pulled out for the meeting. Abandoned by father. She underlined it twice.

"I didn't realize his father left him." Paige muttered aloud. Mr. Bonnefoy sighed and nodded in confirmation. She wanted to pry for more information, but neither man took the bait and she wasn't comfortable digging for it. Quickly she moved on.

"I'm glad you've recognize that is the root of all of Alfred's problems," she said as she stared down at the men, "I would agree. An experience like that is bound to have traumatic repercussions. Lets first address the academic ones then move on to the social ones. We need to find a solution because this cannot continue."

Both men nodded. Mr. Bonnefoy had an intense look of relieve across his face. Mr. Kirkland just looked resolute.

"What academic problems are you talking about?" Mr. Kirkland asked slowly as he pulled out a spiral notebook and pen. Paige had to hide a smile. Good on him. She'd hate for this to go in one ear and out the other as soon as he left.

She began ticking them off on her finger, "He hasn't been handing in his homework, he refuses to participate in class even when directly called on and he returns all his tests blank."

Both men just blinked at her.

"I ask about his homework every night." Mr. Kirkland said, "He goes and does it with Matthew in their room. When I ask he always says its done."

"Well I hate to say this, but he has been lying to you." She pulled out a stack of Alfred's work. The pages were blank except the red ink on them.

The men both stared slack jawed at the papers. Ms. Paige sighed. At least she could be confident that Alfred's new guardians would be on board with getting Alfred back together.

"What do you suggest we do?" Mr. Bonnefoy asked. He looked so tired. Paige reached out to pat his hand. This wasn't going to be easy on anyone.

"Let me go over the social issues and then I'll explain what I'm thinking."

They agreed and she began, "So the behavioral problems... well he no longer abides by classroom rules and he's has been stirring his classmates into similar acts of defiance. All of this has led to the highest number of isolated lunches I've had to give to a single student."

Mr. Kirkland rubbed his hand over his thick eyebrows, Mr. Bonnefoy grabbed his husband's free hand and Paige smiled at them. Once they were all settled she began to outline her 'get-Alfred-back-to-the-child-he-use-to-be' strategy with them.

"Step one," she said, "No more lying. Get him to do his homework somewhere an adult can monitor his progress like the kitchen."

Mr. Kirkland wrote down her words as fast as they were coming out of her mouth.

"Step two: You should get Alfred into therapy. I don't know the extent of the problems at home, but from what I see at school alone Alfred could really benefit from having a neutral person to talk to. There is counseling offered through the school if you are unable to find a therapist on your own."

The sound of pen scratching slowed. Mr. Kirkland's eyes rose and met his husband's. Paige watched the entire men have a conversation with their eyes. Eventually Mr. Kirkland nodded and Mr. Bonnefoy smiled and he told her that he believed therapy could be extremely beneficial.

Paige continued on, glad she didn't have to fight them to see the benefits of sending Alfred to speaking with someone.

"Step three: Try to begin to incorporate positive incentives for good behavior. In school I'm thinking of giving him a sticker when he participates in class or completes his homework. When he has a certain amount of stickers he can trade them in for a big prize. Something like this can be implemented at home as well."

Both parents were on board with the plan. They had a few questions about how to implement the no lying rule which Paige gave advice about. She also left them with a card to the school therapist and another to a very good outside therapist. After the conference was over, the teacher left the classroom feeling better about Alfred's prospects than she had in weeks.

* * *

AN: So I'm not particularly thrilled with this chapter. However, I figured once I got it out there I could move on to the rest of the story... and I know how much everyone wants it to continue :D

Edited for grammar and spelling errors. 04/02/13


	13. Homework

Alfred had thought Mattie's parents understood. Instead they'd pushed his father away. And now he had no one. He didn't care if they said they'd adopted him. His father had left. Just like his mere, he was gone forever.

His insides felt all out of sorts. He felt like crying and raging and sometimes he felt like not talking at all and other times he felt like screaming at the top of his lungs. He wanted his old life back. It wasn't that he didn't love Mattie. He did! And he was thrilled that he had a brother. But he couldn't forgive Francis for making his father leave. It was his fault.

Alfred knew his father didn't like to be around him so much after his mere died, but he'd never left for good.

"I'm going to do my homework!" Mattie called to his Daddy. Alfred trailed behind him. He still wasn't speaking to _them._

"I need you boys to do your homework in here today," Arthur said sticking his head out of the doorway.

Mattie shrugged and headed in, but Alfred didn't want to. He hadn't been doing his homework for weeks and he wasn't in the mood to start again. The door swung shut behind Mattie. Alfred froze in the stillness of the living room. His heart felt like it was beating too loud.

He dashed up the stairs. He threw himself down onto Mattie's pull out. Francis and Arthur had promised to take him to IKEA to get his own bed, but they hadn't yet. Alfred stuffed his face against the pillow. It smelled like summer. The child took a deep breath.

A few minutes later there was a rapping on the door. Alfred tensed in the bed. Arthur usually didn't disturb them when they were doing homework. Would he really be that bother that Alfred wasn't doing it in the kitchen?

While he was thinking Arthur came into the room, frowning lightly. Alfred tensed as he watched the man get close. The adult sat down on the edge of the bed. Alfred squeezed his pillow. His heart felt heavy like a stone dropped into a pond. Mattie's Daddy was gonna try and make Alfred do homework in the kitchen.

"Alfred," Arthur began, "I would really like you and Matthew to do your homework in the kitchen today."

Alfred remained silent. He wasn't their child. Why should he have to behave the same as Mattie? He didn't _like _these stupid talks.

"Please look at me." Arthur said. Alfred studied the patterns on his pillow. Scooby's Mystery Machine had little orange flowers on the side of it. A hand touched his cheek and he pulled back quickly, staring at the tired face of Mattie Dad. The man's thick eyebrows were furrowed. He might have looked a little sad. He glared, well that was fine because he was sad too.

"Alfred please," Arthur said again.

This time Alfred sighed but stared silently up at Arthur.

"Baby, I know you haven't been doing your work."

Alfred's glare broke as his eyebrows shot up. When did he catch on? Alfred had been really good to make sure his homework always got in his backpack before anyone saw it. Besides it wasn't even any of his business!

"I'm not mad," Arthur explained, "but I do need you to come downstairs so that I know you are working."

Alfred looked out across the room, frowning. The circle rug that he and Mattie had played on so many times looked lonely. The thick curtains were drooping towards the wooden floor.

"Alfred, you don't have to speak with me, but you do need to do your school work. That is not a request."

Alfred shook his head. He wasn't Arthur's son so it shouldn't matter if he was doing well in school.

The boy stared at the bookshelves across from him. The books were all lined up by color. There were a lot of red books, only a couple of orange and yellow, but a whole bunch of green, blue and purple books.

Arthur kept talking, "Your education is important. I am going to ask you again to please come down to the kitchen to do your homework."

Alfred stayed still as a statue. He wouldn't give in to him. He was a rock.

"You have until the count of three to start moving."

Alfred didn't want to do his homework. It was hard and Mattie always finished before him. He felt stupid and even though his teacher _said_ it'd help him in class, it never did. So why was Arthur pushing this? His was _Mattie's Daddy_ NOT Alfred's. He shouldn't care!

How could he get out of this?

"One," Arthur began counting.

Alfred hated what happened when Mattie's Daddy got to three so he decided to start moving. Arthur never said that Alfred had to go the kitchen and do his homework, just to start moving move. The adult ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Alfred stood slowly and meandered into the hallway.

"Thank you," Arthur said from behind him, "You're being such a good listener. I really appreciate it."

Alfred glared at the wall. When the boy got to the stairs he sat down and crossed his arms. He stared up at Arthur challengingly. Arthur's eyebrows rose and his cheek gained bright spots of red.

"Don't Alfred, you aren't going to win this."

Alfred glared harder. What could he do?

Arthur loomed over him. He was kind of scary and for a second Alfred wondered if he should just give in and go do his homework. Then he thought of the blank pages of grammar. Not happening.

Arthur scooped him up faster than he'd seen him move before.

"No, no, _non, non, non!" _Alfred cried thrashing in Mattie's Daddy's arms. "I don't wanna!"

During his struggles the wooden flooring became cream tiles. Alfred could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He was put down on a seat still thrashing. Two warm hands cupped his cheeks.

"This is not a fight I'm willing to have multiple times, little boy," Arthur said quietly, "I care about you and want you to have your best shot in life. That includes doing your homework. You will sit in this corner and think about your behavior."

Alfred looked right at Arthur. He was being so mean. Alfred hated doing his homework! It was stupid and hard. Alfred shrieked in Arthur's face. It sounded really fierce and when he was done the fire inside him wasn't so ouch-y.

Arthur went pale and still. Alfred gulped and thought maybe he shouldn't have done that.

"Matthew can you please go upstairs?" Arthur said in a quiet voice. Alfred looked over to the kitchen table. He'd forgotten Mattie was even in here. The pale boy was chewing on the end of his pencil.

"Kay Daddy," the pale boy whispered around the eraser.

Mattie piled all of his papers up and scurried out of the room. Alfred folded his arms again even though this time he didn't feel very confident.

"You are in trouble," Arthur said. He didn't yell, but somehow that made him scarier than if he had been. Mattie's Daddy crouched down to Alfred's level and the boy couldn't help but shrink back. He wanted Snowy.

"You are going in time out. You do not yell like that. You do not say no to grown ups. Do you understand?"

Alfred nodded as he chewed on his thumbnail.

"I'd like you to use your words Alfred."

Alfred opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. He tried again, but it just came out as a whine. Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried one more time. This time came out as a whisper, "I understand sir."

Arthur sighed, "Alright then I'd like you to go stand in the corner and think about this."

Alfred scampered off into the corner. The child tried to hold still. He didn't want to get into more trouble. He hated the corner. It was so boring. At first he played with the hem of his shirt. He rubbed his thumb over the scratchy part, but quickly lost interest in that. Alfred sighed.

A leg cramp made him shift back and forth on his feet. He never realized how hard the ground was before. He thought it'd be much nicer if the ground was soft like blankets. Then no one would have to wear shoes. He shifted again. Stupid floor. Stupid corner time.

Something was buzzing behind him. Slowly he peered over his shoulder to look. Arthur was staring straight at him. His face looked like a thunderstorm.

"Alfred Jones," Arthur snapped, "Stand still or I'll start your time over."

Alfred huffed, but stilled. His eyes were fixed ahead of him on the wall. It was a pale green color like yucky mint. He was sure that Mattie's parents had picked it just because it looked so horrible close up.

The child felt each minute drip by slowly. Staring at the wall was horrible! He never wanted to be here again. He wouldn't shriek at Arthur again. It was really a silly thing to do anyway. And maybe he'd only say no if it was a really important thing... not homework, but something more important. He didn't have his father anymore, but... he hesitated to even think the words.

Quietly in his mind some part of him whispered, he really didn't want Mattie's parents to get rid of him. He thought of the girl in his class who lived in a group home. She always smelled like garbage. He didn't want to go to one of those group homes.

His stomach didn't feel very good. He wanted Snowy. The boy peeked over his shoulder to see Arthur staring at him. A magazine lay forgotten in the man's hands. Alfred bit his lip. He was being punished... he didn't deserve to have Snowy.

The child sniffed. A few tears slipping down his cheeks. He sucked in a breath and quickly wiped his eyes, but more just fell down his cheeks. He pressed his fists into his eyes. Arthur said to stay still. That meant no crying. He tried to suck all his tears back up into his eyes.

He heard Arthur leave the kitchen. Alfred fidgeted. He wanted to sit down now that he wasn't being watched. But Arthur had told him to stand. He didn't want more trouble. More tears leaked out of his eyes. He heard the door open and something dropped onto his shoulder. Alfred cracked his eyes open and reached a hand up. It was soft and white.

"Snowy?" He whispered looking up at Mattie's Daddy, "Thanks."

"Of course. Now I need you to think about what we discussed."

Alfred nodded. He stared down the wall thinking about what Arthur said while rubbing Snowy across his lips. When Arthur called him out of the corner ten minutes later Alfred actually felt kind of bad about how he'd been acting.

Alfred apologized to Arthur and when the Brit told him to do his homework at the kitchen table he didn't protest. He kept Snowy in his sweatshirt pocket. The blond boy swung his legs and stared at his blank grammar page. He drew little monsters on the side of the page. He scrubbed the pencil marks with his finger creating a nice dark smudge.

"Why aren't you doing your homework?"

Alfred looked up and gulped... he opened his mouth to reply but the words got stuck again. He settled for shrugging. He looked back down at his monsters. The little one needed more on-top-of-his-head eyeballs.

"Do you want help?"

Alfred looked up and nodded frantically. He hated grammar.

"Ok then..." the man stared down at the page. Alfred looked at it too. There was a big word bank and he had to figure out which words were suppose to get capitalized. Was boston capitalized or city? There were bunches more too. Words like olivia, bunker hill, girl, cereal, lucky charms, teacher, park, and ms. paige.

Why did any of them have to be capitalized?

"Alright love, let's separate them first." Arthur said. "Some of them go together right?"

Alfred nodded and pointed to teacher and ms. paige. Arthur smiled, "Good boy." Alfred blushed but smiled.

"Can you write those down for me in two columns?"

Alfred was confused, but Arthur showed him how to fold the paper. He wrote teacher on one side and ms. paige on the other. Arthur explained that ms. paige was a name so she was special and got a big letter, but teacher was just a thing so it wasn't.

Then Arthur asked Alfred to pick again. The little boy pointed to olivia, girl, cereal and lucky charms. He wrote Olivia and Lucky Charms under Ms. Paige.

"That's it. You've got it!" Arthur exclaimed. He raised his hand up for a high five and Alfred gave him a big slap. This was so awesome! Alfred wanted to yell, but the words got stuck in his throat. He got a little sad because no one had ever helped him with his homework before. It made sense to him now. Of course everyone else did really well on their homework. They had an adult explain it to them!

Alfred looked over at Mattie's Daddy. He was perched on the chair like a bird, waiting for Alfred to finish the sheet. He was happy to be helping Alfred. That made the little boys heart do funny things... Maybe working in the kitchen wouldn't be so bad cause Arthur would help him.


	14. Baby Steps

It wasn't easy getting Alfred in the car for his second therapy session. He wouldn't let Francis touch him so Matthew had to come over and convince his brother to get in. When Alfred struggled with the booster seat straps and Francis came over to help, Alfred wailed. Matthew was there again, instantly fixing them.

Alfred had no idea how much this was hurting Francis. But at least the little boy was talking with Arthur again. Baby steps, Francis had to remind himself, baby steps.

As Francis drove, his eyes sought out Alfred in the rear view mirror. The boy faced the window. He was pouting, but Francis didn't call him on it. Alfred was allowed to be upset.

Francis knew he didn't like the therapy sessions. Trying to get Alfred to go to the first one had gone so poorly it had taken both Arthur and Francis to get him there. However, they had both agreed that Francis should try to do the second alone, as a way to reinforce Francis' authority. It wasn't an option for Alfred to avoid the Frenchmen. But Francis wondered if it just made Alfred think Francis was the mean parent. The one who made his real father leave and now made Alfred do things he didn't want to.

Francis sighed heavily as he turned left by a big white church. They were having some kind of festival on the lawn. Children were running about and parents were mingling by the coffee. Francis sighed again.

Church events were something he missed. Arthur and he still went for the high holidays, but there was something to be said about going to Sunday mass every week, knowing the other members of the congregation on a first name basis. Francis spent the rest of the ride contemplating church.

The tires crunched on gravel as they turned into the parking area. The doctor's office was the first floor of her home. Edith was a middle aged, round woman with long gray hair. She reminded Francis of a grown up flower-child. However, she was the best child therapist around.

Francis didn't know what went on in her first session with Alfred, but when Alfred came out he had three new pictures. He gave one to Arthur and Matthew happily and reluctantly handed the last over to Francis.

The drawing was done in olive greens and blue. Some of the blue was light blue, like robins egg or sky blue, but the majority of it was dark- navy, royal blue and indigo. It looked like Alfred had tried to draw the world and gotten frustrated.

Only the fourth time Francis stared at the picture did he see the compass rose, the kind you would find on a map, drawn out meticulously then scribbled over. He didn't want to interpret that, but he couldn't help it.

Alfred felt lost.

Francis sat silently in the parked car. He wished he could fix this. Francis hated that bastard for putting the sunny boy through this. The Frenchmen hated him for putting Francis through this. Alfred was silent in the backseat, maybe hoping that Francis would forget he was there.

"Come on, let's go," Francis said sighing. Part of him hoped this wasn't going to be a battle.

"I don't wanna," Alfred grouched. And that hope puffed out real quickly.

Francis twisted in his seat, looking at the child. He gave the boy a serious look, "I know you don't, but you have to."

"It's not faaaaaiiirrrrrrr," Alfred whined, moving into an all out tantrum, "Mattie doesn't have too!"

He tried to unclasp the buckles. His little fingers struggled and slipped on the plastic. Francis waited several moments before offering his help.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

Alfred glared darkly at him, but didn't respond. He bucked his hips and yanked at the straps. Francis let him. At least he was directing his energy into that and not into shrieking. Then Francis would have to punish him and that was the last thing he wanted to do. So Francis sat it out. He pulled out his phone and played Scramble in French.

It took three games before a tentative, "Mr. Bonnefoy?" interrupted his playing. Francis tried not to let his heart break more at the name. Alfred had been calling him Francis for weeks.

"_Oui_?"

"Can you help me out?" Alfred whispered in French.

"Of course _mon petit_," Francis replied in the same language.

With shaking hands Francis unclipped Alfred from the booster seat. The boy jumped out of the car and the two walked into the office together. Alfred fidgeted as they entered the office, but he didn't put up any more of a fuss.

"Hi Alfred!" A boisterous voice called out.

"Hi Edith," the child responded.

"Come on in," she motioned towards the boy. Francis looked down to see Alfred's face. A mixture of apprehension and dislike. He chewed on his thumb for a moment before nodding. As he was walking into the office, he didn't look back to Francis once.

* * *

The store was white, blue and yellow. Bright lights lit up perfectly arranged bedrooms and kitchens. Different color combinations made each room look so different and yet all charming. Each room held so much possibility, a desk with deep drawers meant there was room to grow, more cupboard space could led to new recipes from Francis.

He wasn't embarrassed to say it.

Arthur loved coming to IKEA.

"I'm gettin' a Superman bed! I'm gettin' a Superman bed!" Alfred cheered as the family walked into the children's department.

Francis laughed and Arthur smiled. Matthew didn't say anything. It didn't escape Arthur's notice, but he was just so pleased to see Alfred finally displaying emotions besides hurt, distress and anger.

The newest Bonnefoy-Kirkland skipped ahead of the group. Francis trailed behind the rushing Alfred into bedroom area. The child was bouncing with excitement hopping from one bed set to another. Arthur smiled, for the first time in a while everything seemed to be alright in their family.

Arthur glanced at a towering display of pillows. Currently Alfred was borrowing a pillow they usually gave guests. It wasn't the nicest one around. These were soft blue pillows and fuzzy green ones. Which would Alfred like better the blue or green? Fuzzy green like the monsters he'd been drawing recently or blue like the sky Superman flew through?

"I don't want to share my room," Matthew grouched suddenly. Arthur froze with a pillow in each hand. It took him a moment to figure out how to respond.

"That's too bad baby boy, because you are going too," Arthur said trying to brush off the statement. Matthew was allowed to express his opinion. It wouldn't change the fact that the two boys would still be sharing a room.

"It's not fair," Matthew continued, "Why can't Alfred just sleep in the basement?"

Arthur looked down at his child scandalized. What on earth had gotten into him?!

"Matthew Williams," he said slowly, "you don't talk about your brother that way."

Matthew pouted, "I don't want him as a brother."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. Yesterday Matthew liked Alfred, today he didn't. Some days he was great with Alfred, other days... not so much. The poor child was a yo-yo. Arthur put down the different colored pillows deciding to let Alfred pick. The Brit knew he needed to figure out what was going on with Matthew. He'd just rather not do it at an IKEA.

Both father and son were quiet as the followed behind. After several moments Matthew broke their silence.

"If I become friends with someone else, are you gonna 'dopt them too?"

And Arthur's world stopped. His heart plummeted through his feet. Arthur crouched down in front of his first baby. The two were standing in front of a set of bunk beds that he'd heard Alfred gushing over a minute before. Was this going to cause Mattie to retreat further into himself? Would he see this as a reason not to make friends? Arthur felt like he was the slowest man in the race, scrambling to catch up.

"No, baby, of course not," Arthur said, cradling Matthew face gently. He needed Matthew to understand, this was an unusual situation, something no one could have forseen.

"Your father and I aren't going to adopt everyone you become friends with, Alfred is special."

Matthew kicked the bottom bed before muttering, "Yeah special ed."

"Matthew Williams Bonnefoy-Kirkland!" Arthur exclaimed. He really didn't know what had gotten into his son today.

Matthew scuffed the ground, "Sorry Daddy," Matthew mumbled, "I didn't mean it."

Arthur took a deep breath. He needed patience. "Thank you. Remember, we talked about this? You said you were happy that Alfred was going to be your new brother."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize I'd have to share my room with him forever," Matthew huffed.

Arthur wanted to rub his head and demand to know what the child had been thinking. He needed to reinforce the positives of having a sibling. A sibling. Arthur tried not to smile. He and Francis had never even considered adopting again. The process was so cumbersome. Alfred was really a gift... his thought had wandered. Focus.

"I know it's going to be an adjustment, but it's going to be a lot of fun too. You two can play together all the time now and you'll always have a friend at school now."

Matthew grumbled but nodded. Arthur continued lecturing though. He needed this to stick.

"Matthew, Alfred is _your_ little brother. Forever. No one else gets to say that Alfred is their's. Only you. And that's really special baby. One day when your Papa and I aren't here anymore you'll still have Alfred."

"Like you and your brothers?"

"Exactly," Arthur smiled. His parents' passing was probably the only time the Brit was thankful to have his brothers.

Matthew whined and made grabby hands at Arthur. A woman passed by him, staring. He wanted to sneer at her, instead he just gave her a flat look. She should mind her own business. They're the children's section. What did she expect?

"I can't understand you. I need you to use your words."

Matthew pouted and looked up at Arthur with big puppy dog eyes. He was not going to fall for it. He wasn't. Matthew needed to learn to ask for what he wanted. Arthur repeated Francis' words to himself, Matthew would never learn if adults around him kept anticipating his needs. This is good for him.

"Words love," Arthur said again.

"Up please," Matthew murmured.

"Of course." He swung his oldest child up into his arms. "Thank you for using your words. You're such a polite boy."

Arthur cuddled with his oldest baby as he searched for his husband and his newest baby. There was still work to be done, but for now he just had to concentrate on getting Alfred to pick a bed, rather than gushing over all of them.

When Arthur found them Alfred was jumping on a sport car shaped bed. He was laughing widely and singing off key about the "splendiferousness" of car beds. Arthur looked around for his husband. Of course, the Frenchman was flirting with a young, red head.

"Frog!" Arthur yelled storming over to his husband, "I told you to watch Alfred!"

Arthur proceeded to drag Francis away by the ear. The infuriating flirt stumbled along behind Arthur still calling back sweet nothings to the young woman. The Brit could hear Matthew giggling softly and that was enough to make Francis' lapse of judgment a tiny bit forgivable.

* * *

Edited: 04/04/13


	15. Lunch

The pile of lunches had created a small mound in Mattie's cubby. The boy bit his lip. He could just move them to the garbage, but how would he do that without someone asking questions? He'd wanna know why five uneaten lunches appeared in the trash. The child sighed and covered them up again. He would just bring in another coat tomorrow.

The boy slipped out into the hallway to rejoin his class. He'd picked the last spot in line so his teacher wouldn't notice him coming and going.

You might be wondering why Matthew had so many uneaten lunches and that's a very good question. Last week he'd found his brother puking at recess.

He asked Alfred what was going on, but the other boy had just begged Matthew not to tell anyone. Alfred looked so sad with tears on his cheeks and throw up behind him that Matthew had agreed. But after two days of watching Alfred up-chuck everything he'd eaten for lunch Matthew had come up with an idea.

He'd hide Alfred's lunch so he wouldn't have anything to throw up. Then Alfred would be happy!

Mattie slipped back into line and tapped Alfred on the shoulder. The blond haired boy looked at him. His brother's eyes were hopeful, but his shoulders were tense.

"Sorry Al," Mattie whispered, "maybe they forgot again."

Alfred sighed and nodded, but Matthew could see the stiffness going away. Alfred feeling better made Matthew think it was ok to be fibbing.

The class was led into the cafeteria. Most of the classes were already there so it was really loud. Their table was one of the only ones still completely empty. Alfred cheerfully shoved kids out of the way with a big grin and wave while Matthew kept behind Alfred and tried to avoid bumping other students.

When the two sat down at their table Alfred happily continued scratching his name into the dark wood. The long lines spelled out Alf so far. His brother's vandalism made Matthew cringe.

"I know! We can share mine." Matthew suggested.

The other boy shook his head, but smiled.

"It's ok. Hey, did you know that _pink_ dolphins live in the Amazon River!" Alfred exclaimed. "And the river is dark brown like coca-cola!"

The blue eyed boy cheerfully dragged his quarter back and forth making a capital E. Two white teeth were chewing on his bottom lip in concentration.

"No way, dolphins are only grey!" Matthew said. He was positive Alfred was making it up. Alfred always had crazy ideas floating through his head. Yesterday he tried to convince Matthew that a dragon lived in the mountains in New Hampshire. The two boys battled out the possibility of other colored dolphins.

"I'm telling you Mattie!" Alfred laughed, "They're really real!"

"I've gotta see it to believe it Al. That's just too weird!"

Alfred looked serious for a moment, "You don't have to see things to believe them. What about Santa?"

Matthew's brow furrowed, "Well that's different. Everybody knows Santa exists."

Alfred just shrugged, "But have you ever _seen_ him?"

Matthew shook his head no.

"Then how can you believe in him and not the pink dolphins?"

Matthew sighed, he didn't know how to explain reality from fiction to his brother without hurting his feelings. Matthew forcefully bit into his apple thinking it over. Alfred's shoulders were hunched over the wood. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the quarter. Matthew was sure today was going to be a good lunch.

"Ok, Al, I believe you," Matthew conceded. Alfred was so happy he stopped carving his name into the wood to give Matthew a blinding smile.

"Yes! Say it!" Alfred demanded with a whoop.

Matthew rolled his eyes and said quickly, "There are pink dolphins living in a brown river in the Amazon."

Alfred giggled wildly and started to tell him about massive lily pads that were so big a person could stand on them and not sink. Matthew ate his lunch, not feeling guilty. He'd rather have Alfred hungry for a few hours than puking on the playground. He knew it wasn't a perfect solution, but until someone else found out this was all he had.

* * *

Ms. Bella Paige ate lunch in her classroom with a good book and a bar of Belgian chocolate. She knew other teachers socialized in the teacher's lounge or went over lesson plans, but she needed the forty five minutes to escape into fantasy worlds.

Ms. Paige had ripped open her chocolate, cracked her book and nearly sunken into the pages when she smelled it. It was like old gym socks and sour milk. Her nose wrinkled. Bella tried to get back into her novel, telling herself she'd figure it out after lunch, but she couldn't. The words of the book stared at her waiting for her to get rid of the vile scent.

What could be in her room to cause such a horrible odor? Had one of the boys brought in a dead animal again?

She sighed and got up from her desk. Ms. Paige slowly made her way over to the coat closet. It was the worst by Tyler Berkley and Matthew Bonnefoy-Kirkland's cubbies. Nothing seemed unusual though.

When she shifted about Tyler's stuff nothing struck her as odd. She moved on to Matthew's. She moved one of the boy's extra sweaters when a brown paper bag fell out. Reaching down to grab the lunch, the teacher noticed more brown paper sticking out underneath the jacket. Ms. Paige tugged back the coat to see a pile of uneaten lunches sitting at the bottom of Matthew's cubby.

The class' trashcan was pulled over and Bella proceeded to dump each of the lunches into the can. She emptied the can out into the back dumpster and left the door open, hoping it'd air out the stench.

As Bella picked up her novel again she wondered why Matthew wasn't eating his lunches. She decided she'd just send a note home with him to let Mr. Kirkland know.

* * *

Matthew didn't notice the note tucked into his folder until he was looking for his homework. It had 'Mr. Kirkland' printed on it in little round letters. That was Ms. Paige's writing.

"Hey Daddy?" The boy called, "Ms. Paige sent you something."

Arthur came over and plucked the note up. His daddy wandered back to his tea, reading. When Matthew looked back at the table green army men had started to form a line around his stuff!

Mattie pushed one away with his fingertip. He'd never liked playing soldiers. He didn't know who'd put them there. Alfred was chomping away on one of Daddy's yucky scones so Matthew figured it wasn't him. The boy decided to ignore the toys and go back to watching his Daddy. Matthew wondered what was in the note.

A loud burped had him looking over towards Alfred. That's when he noticed there was a second row of soldiers surrounding his folder. The child pulled his stuff away from the line of green men. How were they getting there?

He looked over at Alfred, "Are you doing that?" Matthew asked.

Alfred looked up from his snack, "Doing what?"

Matthew gestured to the green toys.

"Nope!" Alfred grinned, "not me!"

Matthew grit his teeth. He pushed three more of them out of the way when Daddy spoke up.

"Matthew? Have you not been feeling well?"

The boy looked over to his father. The note was dangling from one of his hands. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry...

"No, I've been feeling fine..." he said, "Why'd you wanna know?"

"Because Ms. Paige found 4 uneaten lunches in your cubby today."

"Umm," Matthew stalled. What should he say? Alfred was right here. He didn't want his brother to start getting sick again. He couldn't tattle though!

"What's going on love?"

He stayed quiet. He could feel Alfred's eyes on him. His brother was probably confused.

"Matthew, did you not like the lunches I made?"

Matthew started to sweat. He didn't like them, but that wasn't the reason he'd been hiding them. Oh, but maybe he should just say that?

"Mattie said you guys had forgotten to pack me lunch," Alfred said slowly. Someone gasped. How could Alfred tattle on him?!

"Matthew Williams!" Arthur exclaimed. His eyes were flashing and the vein in his forehead was throbbing. That always meant trouble.

"Alfred's been puking during recess!" Matthew replied not willing to be the only one getting in trouble this afternoon.

"Have not!" Alfred yelled.

"Have to!" Matthew squeaked, ""Member? I saw you."

Alfred glared and Matthew tried not to cry.

"That is _enough_," Arthur shouted. Matthew quickly shut his mouth and Alfred sniffed. Daddy stared at both of them hard like he wasn't sure who he was more upset with.

"Matthew, go to your room."

The boy's eyes widened. He hadn't done anything wrong! Alfred had made him promise not to tell and now he was getting in trouble for trying to help?

"But, but I was just helping!" He whispered, biting his lower lip. He'd just been trying to make Alfred unsick.

"I'm very disappointed in you Matthew Williams," Daddy said and Matthew felt like he was going to throw up. Daddy had never been disappointed with him before.

"You go and think about why it was wrong help Alfred hide being sick. Stay there until I come and get you."

Matthew started to cry as he ran from the kitchen. Through his tears he could hear _his _Daddy calming Alfred down. Next time he saw those stupid green army men he was throwing them all in the trash.

* * *

When Francis got home he could hear Arthur on the phone. He smiled. The Frenchmen loved hearing his lover talk. He'd never admit it out loud but that accent was so cute.

He walked into the living room and saw Alfred curled up under a blanket watching The Incredibles again. It'd been his favorite since he watched it the first time. Francis looked around for Matthew. He dropped his brief case next to the couch.

"Hey Alfred," Francis smiled. The boy looked at him and waved, but still didn't say anything. Francis held in a sigh.

"Do you know where Matthew is?"

The little boy solemnly pointed up the stairs. How unusual. Matthew normally kept close to where ever Alfred or Arthur were.

"_Merci_," Francis said and started to head upstairs. Something was not quite right.

"I mess everything up," Alfred admitted suddenly. Francis' eyes widened. He turned back around slowly. How to respond to such a statement?

"You don't mess everything up," Francis said, "Sometimes you make mistakes, but Arthur or I will always be here to help you fix them."

Alfred shook his head and looked back to the television. Before he left Alfred on the couch again he brought his hand out and gently touched Alfred's arm.

"Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Alfred, that's why God invented forgiveness."

He left Alfred with a furrowed brow, blinking into space. Francis was feeling pretty good about himself. He'd finally gotten through to Alfred. He didn't know what caused the newest Bonnefoy-Kirkland to break his silence, but he was glad.

Those good feelings vanished quickly when he heard his _petit _Mathieu crying. Francis listened at the door trying to get an idea of what was going on.

He pushed the door open and saw his baby curled up in bed with his polar bear. His face was pressed up against the bear's fur, but his back was heaving from his sobbing.

The child was so wrapped up in crying that he didn't hear Francis walk over to him.

"Etes-vous d'accord?" Francis asked sitting next to the child rubbing his back, "What's wrong?"

"Was only tryin' ta help," Matthew moaned softly, not answering the question. Red watery eyes looked up at him. The child's face was all blotchy and he was sucking his thumb.

"I'm sure you were," Francis soothed. He gently pulled Matthew's hand away from his mouth.

"Can you tell me what were you trying to help with?" Francis whispered.

That's when the whole story came out, about Alfred getting sick and promising not to tell and hiding his lunches and the note from Ms. Paige and Arthur sending him to his room to think. When he was done explaining Matthew slipped his thumb back in and Francis didn't have the heart to say no again.

"When did Daddy send you up here baby?" Francis wondered trying to figure out if he could release the child from his time out.

"Right, right after school," Matthew whimpered and started to cry again. Francis had to hold back a curse. It was after six now. The little boy had been up here for _hours._

"It's ok, time out's over now," Francis said.

"Daddy said not to move til he comes to get me."

"Papa says it's ok."

The little boy shook his head and pulled away, "I'm not going to disappoint him 'ny more," his son whimpered.

Francis' eyes widened. What the fuck? He needed to straighten this mess out.

"Ok, you can stay here. I'm going to go downstairs, but I'll be right back."

Francis hated to leave the boy so he moved quickly.

"It's all pear shaped. I don't know what to do," he heard Arthur whisper as he stalked into the room.

He approached his husband from behind and quickly plucked the phone out of his hands.

"I'm sorry, but he's going to have to call you back," Francis said and quickly flipped the phone closed to shouted Scottish curses words. Arthur had called his brother? Not good.

"Arthur there is a little boy crying his eyes out in his room too afraid to get out of bed because _he doesn't want to disappoint you,_" Francis hissed, "You will go upstairs and fix it."

The Brit blinked, "Matthew's still in his room?"

"Go," Francis said pointing.

"Blast," Arthur swore as he hurried out.

Francis looked back down at the phone for a moment. He'd called his brother. None of the family had met Alfred yet. Francis really liked Arthur's brothers. Francis ruminated over the idea of their extended family as he headed back upstairs to soothe his son.

* * *

AN: I'm still wicked sick and my creative juices were taken up on this chapter. I'll gladly take ideas and suggestions for the chapter title. Merry Christmas everyone!


	16. Mistakes

Pushing open the bedroom door was harder than he ever imagined it could be. The room was as still as a picture. Toys lay on their side on the carpet. The superman covers on Alfred's new bed were all rumbled. If he didn't know better he'd never guess that their was a child in here.

But there was one. Curled up next to his pillow, hiding in his bear was his Matthew.

"Hey love," Arthur whispered as he sat down on the side of the bed.

"Hi Daddy," his son whispered back. From the sound he could tell that Matthew was sucking his thumb. After what just happened, Arthur didn't have the heart in him to tell him to stop.

"Your time out is over," Arthur said looking down at his son.

"I know. Papa told me," Matthew replied, pulling his thumb out. "I think I'm going to stay here anyway." The child's thumb was all wrinkled from being in his mouth for so long. Of course Matthew needed it to soothe him because Arthur had failed to do that himself.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The little boy's thumb disappeared back into his mouth as he shook his head no. Arthur shifted until his back was resting on the wall. Matthew didn't come and curl up on him like he usually did.

He had to fix this.

Arthur took a deep breath and began speaking, "I don't think I've ever told you this before, but sometimes parents make mistakes."

The child curled his pointer finger around his nose and began to rub it. His blond hair bounced as he shook no his head so Arthur continued on.

"Well I botched things up this afternoon."

Arthur's stomach felt like it had acid in it. He wished he could go back and stop himself before he even started talking. Go back and fix all the mistakes he made so Matthew wouldn't be hurt.

"Do you know what the first mistake I made was?"

His baby didn't look up at him and he wanted to kick himself. The little boy toyed with his polar bear's paw, but didn't say anything.

"I think you might know. Time outs happen in the kitchen. Not in bedrooms."

Matthew finally looked up at him. His eyes were wide like an owl's. His eyes were red and his face was all blotchy.

"Oh love," Arthur sighed, "Come here."

He gently pulled his son into his side and ran his hand through his hair. It was so soft with just a hint of a curl. So much like Francis'.

"What else did Daddy mess up today? Can you tell me love?"

The little boy shook his head no.

"What about you Kumajiro? Do you know what other mistakes were made?"

Matthew buried his face in his bears fur. For a moment Arthur didn't think he was going to get an answer then his son raised one of the bear's little white paws.

"Yes?"

"Kumabooboo wants me to tell you," Matthew mumbled, "that time outs are only suppose to be for seven minutes."

"And he's very, very right. They are. Time outs are never suppose to go for that long." Arthur agreed. "If something like that ever happens again, you have my permission to get up. Once your seven minutes are up time out is over."

Matthew was hiding in the bears fur again. Arthur could tell Matthew wouldn't do that so he came up with an alternate idea.

"And if your scared or worried that I'm going to be upset, you call Papa right away."

Matthew nodded and swiped at his nose with his shirt sleeve. Arthur cringed, but now wasn't the time to deal with hygiene issues.

"Wanna know the biggest mistake?"

Matthew shrugged.

"It was telling you that I was disappointed in you." Arthur squeezed the little boy tight and rocked the two of them. "I am never disappointed in you. Ever."

Matthew glanced up quickly before looking away. Arthur ran a hand through his hair. The adult took a steadying breath and explained.

"I was wrong when I said that today. I was upset by the situation and disappointed with Alfred's and your actions. But not with you. Never with you."

"I am really sorry Daddy," Matthew whispered.

"Oh love," Arthur cupped Matthew's cheek so he would look him in the eye. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for."

Matthew huddled into his side but gave a small nod.

"I was upset with your _actions_, not with you," Arthur repeated, "Can you tell me what I was upset by?"

The child stayed quiet.

"Matthew, I need to know you understand this. It's very important."

The boy picked at the bear's fur as he answered, "You weren't disappointed with me. You were upset with my actions."

"Right because you are my good little boy," Arthur soothed. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Arthur picked up Matthew. Matthew's small arms circled his neck and he hide his face in Arthur's neck. Arthur kept up a soft stream of words as he walked to the bathroom. He sat Matthew down on the counter and ran the warm water. He turned to grab a clean wash cloth.

As he rubbed at the boys face, he said to him, "I love you so much Matthew Williams."

He scrubbed one cheek, "I love your cheeks."

He rubbed away the snot from under his nose, "I love your nose."

He washed the rest of his face, "I love your eyes."

He put the wash cloth down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "And I love how you always try to help."

Matthew sniffed and reached for him. Arthur pulled the child in tight. He could feel Matthew's cheek pressed against his heart, "I love you forever." He whispered into the boys hair, "I love you for always. As long as you're living my baby you'll be."

The stayed like that for a few moments. Arthur wished he could show his baby just how much he loved him. He wished he could show Matthew how his world had lit up when his baby had come home to them. How every day things that seemed so dull before took on new meaning.

He felt Matthew push away and he let go even though Arthur wanted to keep him close to his heart forever.

Blue eyes looked up at him seriously. They were pale like two chips from a polar ice berg. Then the corners crinkled. It wasn't like looking into the sun like many books described smiles. No, it was like looking at the northern lights, majestic and breath taking.

"I love you too Daddy," his son smiled, "And I forgive you."

Relief and love washed over him. How did he get so lucky? He hugged Matthew again.

As they left the bathroom Arthur pitched an idea to his oldest baby, "I think we should have a Matthew night. What do you think?"

"That sounds like it could be fun." Matthew said slowly, "But what do you do on a Matthew night?"

"Anything little boys names Matthew want."

His son was quiet for several moments. After he had thought his options over he asked, "Could you read me a story on the big couch? Maybe with Papa's cocoa?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Arthur agreed.

* * *

Matthew night went well, but Arthur could tell that Francis was still narked. Neither of the boys caught on, but there was no inappropriate touching or strange pet names. At dinner Francis didn't try to play footsie with him under the table.

Francis wasn't ready to forgive and forget. Arthur tried not to let it bother him though. Matthew was smiling. He seemed to have forgiven Arthur and that was the most important thing. Arthur just wished Francis could do the same.

It wasn't until after the boys were asleep that Francis decided to share his feelings. His voice never rose above a whisper. It didn't matter though. The words alone were cutting enough.

"That little boy tries harder to please other people than anyone I've ever met! How could you say something so hurtful to him Arthur? How?"

For the first time in a long time Arthur didn't argue back. He was disappointed and angry with himself also.

His husband dissolved into French, but Arthur knew what he was saying even if he couldn't understand it. Arthur didn't know how he could have done it. Especially with how fragile Matthew was. Getting their son to open up about anything was a challenge. He was always so worried he was doing something wrong. God he wished he could go back an do it again. Then Arthur could have done everything better.

"And to forget about him while you spoke with your brother!" Francis exclaimed in English again, "It's neglectful! I expected more from you!"

Arthur did too. He never thought he'd be one of those parents who had a favorite. Even if it was unintentional. Arthur had set aside Matthew's needs for Alfred's. God, he was a terrible parent.

Arthur felt like his heart was being impaled by a screw driver. Arthur couldn't tell if Francis had stopped because he could hear the same accusations inside his head. There was a stone lodged in his throat. He tried to swallow, but it stayed there. Everything was all twisted up and-

Two arms came around him. His head was pulled down onto a toned shoulder. The hissed French had stopped. He could feel himself shaking, but he wasn't crying. He didn't cry. A large hand rubbed his back in wide circles.

"Oh _mon coeur_, shh, I know." Francis said, "I'm sorry. I know it's difficult."

Francis pulled Arthur down on to the bed. The taller man wrapped himself around Arthur. This time when Francis spoke it was in softly accented English that never failed to coax warm feelings from Arthur.

"You are doing your best in a rough situation."

The soft words continued late into the night. It was as if Francis was trying to erase his earlier words with the words of love and support he was giving Arthur now. Normally he'd punch Francis for whispering sweet nothings to him, but under these circumstances, it was nice. He'd never admit that out loud though.

When Arthur fell asleep with a conglomeration of emotions welling up inside him: determination for Alfred to get better, adoration for his oldest son, and appreciation for his husband. Things had to get better from here. He just had to keep calm and carry on until they did.

* * *

AN: Hey guys! I've been drawing out the floor plans of the Bonnefoy-Kirkland residence. If you are interested in seeing the 2 sketches I've made for myself you can find the links over on my profile. I figured, what the heck, it might be interesting for you guys too!


	17. Coping

The house was tense after that like everyone was holding their breath. Alfred didn't know what had happened after Arthur and Francis went upstairs. But when Francis had come back downs he played Pengoloo with Alfred... which was awesome because neither Mattie nor Arthur like it.

The bad thing about everyone finding out about the stupid panic attacks meant that he had to go to see Edith twice a week now. He guessed it could be worse. She could force him to talk every visit. Sometimes they don't talk at all just color and play. He liked those visits the best. Today they'd strategized.

Crayons lay sprawled across the white table. Alfred was sitting on a window seat with tons of bright colorful pillows all around him. Edith was in a dark red armchair across from him. The room smelled like bread from Edith's baking. She made great bread.

The boy crossed his legs Indian style as he listened to Edith wrap up their session.

"We're going to start with an apple for lunch." Edith said, "Then what?"

"When I'm comfortable with that we'll add some peanut butter crackers," Alfred restated.

"Is there a time limit?" She asked with a smile as she wrote something down. Alfred had looked at her notes once. She didn't write like he did. She wrote on computer paper in all different directions with arrows and bubbles. The dark ink swirled across the page in different thicknesses and shapes. It looked cool.

"Nope," he popped the p and smiled, "cause eating shouldn't make you feel anxious. If I don't want to eat at lunch time I can eat when I get home with Mattie."

The sound of crunching gravel drew Alfred's attention outside. A gray minivan pulled into the driveway. Therapy was almost over.

"And if you do start to have panic attacks or start to feel sick?"

"Then," Alfred stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry, "I go get an adult and go to the nurse. Yuck."

"I know it's not fun," Edith sympathized, "but then you get a sticker for telling the truth. And I saw the prizes Arthur and Francis got for you. They're really cool."

"I guess..." the boy drawled, "the rocket ship is pretty awesome. And I was going to save up for it. Now I don't have to."

"See good things _do_ happen," Edith said. "You want to bring Arthur in so we can tell him what we went over today?"

The boy gulped but stuck his chin up. When Arthur came in he was completely on board with everything Edith and Alfred had talked about. He nodded along when Edith explained eating when your comfortable. When Edith mentioned getting a sticker if he was sick and told an adult, Arthur agreed and smiled.

"Those sound like great ideas," Arthur said smiling at Alfred, "What prize are you going to get when you fill up your sticker chart?"

Alfred smiled, "The rocket ship!" He exclaimed, jumping around the room pretending to be a space man on the moon.

The two left and got in the car. Alfred gleefully snapped all the buckles shut on his booster seat. He'd been practicing with Mattie.

"When I get the rocket ship I'm going to go on lots of moon 'splorations!"

"Really?" Arthur said, "And what are you going to do on the moon?"

"Umm," Alfred smacked his lips, thinking. "I'm going to meet Tony! And we're going to go sledding!"

Alfred breathed on the window. A grey mist appeared on the glass. Quickly he traced in a picture of the moon.

"Oh really?" Arthur said, "That should be fun. Who's Tony though?"

The fog faded and Alfred looked up to respond. "He's my friend." Alfred smiled, "He's an alien so he knows all about the best stuff to do on the moon."

"An alien?" Arthur chuckled, "Is he green with three eyes?"

Alfred blew onto the window and began a new picture.

"No Arthur!" Alfred laughed, "Don't be silly! He only has two eyes and he's grey." He made a big circle with little circles inside it. He was drawing Tony. The car went over a bump and his hand wobbled, ruining the picture. Alfred crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the window.

"Alfred you know aliens don't exist. Right?" Arthur asked. Alfred dragged his fist across the image to erase it.

"Of course they do!" He replied.

"_Surrre_, how could I be so silly?" Arthur said. Alfred could tell he was being "scarstastic." He'd heard Francis yell Arthur about it enough times.

"Arthur," Alfred said, putting on his serious voice, "The universe is a HUGE place." Alfred threw his hand open as wide as they could go.

"Of course there's other life out there! And Tony's really not the strangest alien I could think of. He's kind of like us, but a little gray."

"So you're saying this Tony "alien" is just like you and me?" Arthur asked.

"Nah," Alfred drawled, "Tony's not _exactly_ like us." The boy tried again. This time he got the picture right. Big, pointy head. Long body. Two, wide eyes.

Alfred smirked, "He swears _all the time_."

Arthur made a choking sound, but Alfred was back to drawing on the window again. When they got home Alfred ran inside to prep Matthew for their space 'sploration. Arthur trailed after him with a frown, glancing up at the sky.

* * *

It was still dark out when Arthur came downstairs to make lunches for the boys. The house was quiet. Francis hadn't gotten the boys out of bed yet. The wood floors creaked as he walked across them. This was one of his favorite times of the day.

He put the teapot up to boil and started the coffee maker for Francis. Arthur dug out both boys lunch boxes. A the whistle sounded and he poured himself a mug.

As his tea was steeping he pondered what to make for lunch. A mountain of yellow and green pears were sitting in the fruit bowl. He grabbed two of them. The boys both liked pears.

Sipping his tea, Arthur peered into the fridge. There was a container of left over chicken salad. He could add some curry powder and make a great curried chicken salad sandwich. For Alfred he grabbed peanut butter crackers.

He grabbed a juice box, apple. Arthur didn't grab another for Alfred. The child asked him not to. The little boy said he could just get water from the fountain or steal Mattie's.

Francis was worried that Alfred wasn't moving fast enough. Every evening the Frenchmen asked Arthur about it. Finally Arthur suggested speaking with Edith. She reassured him that 'there is no such thing as moving to slowly.' His husband huffed and puffed, but let it go.

Arthur couldn't help but compare the two lunch boxes.

One was filled with food, the other was not.

Arthur grabbed two napkins and a black sharpie. On one he scribbled 'You are my sunshine' and the other he scribbled 'I love you forever. I love you for always.'

He tucked each napkin in. He gave the lunch boxes a half grin. The napkin made Alfred's lunch look a little happier.

Arthur was just glad that the boy was eating something now. It'd never occurred to him that the child could be having panic attacks. But it did make sense. Alfred's father had never given him food in the past. So to reliably get a pre-made lunch everyday pointed out the fact that the man was gone.

Arthur zipped up Alfred's Incredibles lunchbox. Even with the new challenges, he was so bloody glad that man was out of the picture.

* * *

Francis rubbed his eyes and set down his pen. All of the colors were starting to run together on the page. He needed a break from drafting their fall line up. The January air stole his breath when he left the building. He headed down the block Café Paradiso. They had the best Cappuccino in the area.

He couldn't remember who'd suggested they get Alfred into some activities. Maybe it was him, maybe it was Arthur. Matthew did hockey and Boy Scouts. It made sense that they should try to get Alfred into something.

The heady smell of coffee wafted out the door. Francis quickly made his way through the line. As the designer picked up his cup and a newspaper his fingers froze on the newspaper. Tucked away in the bottom corner was an advertisement for a painting class.

**Father-Son Painting Course**

Children Ages: 6-12

And

Fathers of all ages!

.

Mondays and Wednesday for 8 weeks.

Beginning: 02/18/13

Price: 399$

(includes paints and brushes!)

.

**Contact:**

Feliciano Vargas

fvargas

914-247-0088

.

Francis' fingers flew across the key board of his iphone before he realized what he was doing.

_Mr. Vargas,_

_My name is Francis Bonnefoy-Kirkland. I am interested in your father-son painting class and was wondering what skill level was required? Recently I adopted my second son, Alfred. He'll be seven in July. I don't think he's never painted before while I'm an experience painter. The transition has tough for him and I think it would be a great activities for us to do together. But I wouldn't want to make him feel uncomfortable if he was out of his depth._

_If you could give me some additional information about the course I would be extremely interested._

_Sincerely,_

_Francis Bonnefoy-Kirkland_

Francis went back to work with a grin. He'd wait to hear back before he mentioned it to Arthur. But _mon Dieu_ he'd love to get his hands on brushes again.

The response came faster than he expected. As he was leaving the office that day his phone vibrated. Distracted he glanced at it quickly before stopping to see what the teacher had to say.

_Ciao Francis! _

_I am so thrilled to hear from you!_

_Don't worry about Alfred. You don't need any experience for this class! And younger is better to start teaching your little one about the fine arts. This course is really meant to help fathers and kids bond through a shared activity. During the course I'll work with the more inexperienced students with mixing and identifying shades and colors, rendering objects correctly and choosing composition. _

_But the class isn't all tutorial! We have fun days like mimic me and draw that sounds that are meant to build dialogue between you and your son. Art is a great way to express emotions that you can't say! I think painting would really help Alfred during this difficult time. And you'll also be very happy that you signed up! I promise!_

_Spero a presto!_

_Feliciano_

__Francis smirked. Now he just had to get Arthur on board. Alfred was going to love this! He liked coloring well enough. This would be great!


	18. Painting

Alfred walked into the studio grumbling. Behind him Francis was flouncing around chattering about brushes and paint quality. Alfred was not nearly as enthusiastic about the painting class, but Arthur had promised he could start little league if he went. He loved baseball.

So here he was.

There were clumps of fathers and sons waiting around. The studio was felt airy and cramped at the same time. Tall wooden cubbies held finished pieces. Large easels stood at attention through out the room. Chairs and benches were pushed against the wall. Sunlight poured in through the windows.

Francis paced between the remaining easels. He reached out and touched a few before turning away. Finally he stopped in front of one.

"I think this is a good easel," he chirped, "what do you think?"

Alfred looked at it. He shrugged. He didn't know anything about art. How should he know if it was good or bad? Green paint was stuck to one of the easels. Alfred picked at it. Everything seemed to be coated in the stuff.

"It's a piece of wood. Does it really matter?" was his reply.

Francis shrugged, "Not all easels are the same. Some have better tension in the-"

Alfred tuned him out as Francis went out about the qualities of easels. There was a crossbar that Alfred used to stand on and get a better view of the room. He didn't think their would be so many guys interested in smooshing paint around.

"Good morning class!" A short man came into the room with a bounce.

"My name is Feliciano Vargas!" He introduced himself clapping, "And I'll be your teacher! We're going to have a great time together. Who here likes art?"

Most of the others raised their hands. Francis put his up. Alfred half raised his. He guessed he liked art. He liked coloring, but he had never gone to a class to learn how to color.

"_Fantastico_! I love art too! Today we're going to start with a gray scale. Do any of _i bambini _know what that is?"

None of the kids raised their hands.

"No?" He peered around the room, "Ok then! Everyone come here!"

Mr. Vargas quickly gathered everyone around and showed them how to make a 'gray scale.' It was just white to black with a bunch of different grays in between. It looked pretty easy.

"And while your painting I want everyone to think about their first black and white painting. I'll set up a still life next class."

Alfred looked at the blank canvas. It was white. He was kind of worried he'd mess it up. He looked over to Francis who was also staring at his canvas. He took a deep breath, "What are you gonna paint?" He haltingly asked.

"Ehh," Francis mumbled, tracing the outline for his gray scale, "I'll have to see what props he puts out. I've been struggling with painting fabric though."

The Frenchmen looked over at Alfred and gave him a brilliant smile. "What would you be interested in trying? In a beginners still life there are usually blocks, balls and cones."

Alfred stared at his paint brush and shrugged, "I don't know."

Alfred couldn't remember how Mr. Vargas had started his gray scale. When he did it looked so easy. He watched Francis mix the white and black paint together to make a middle gray and fill in his middle block. He had three of his seven blocks all ready done.

Biting his lip Alfred quickly copied him and filled in the ends of the scale with pure white and black. Then Alfred mixed the two together and painted the middlest block gray.

The two worked silently. Francis would mix a grey and Alfred would follow. They went from the lightest to the darkest.

Mr. Vargas came around and helped Alfred when he got frustrated with two of his dark grays. They were suppose to be the other way around, but every time he tried to fix it they stayed the same. Francis had tried to help him, but Alfred snapped at him and said he could do it by himself.

"Alright class that's the end for today!" Mr. Vargas exclaimed, clapping, "I can't wait to see you next week!"

* * *

Next class there was a still life was waiting for them when they arrived. A bunch of white cones and balls and blocks were sitting on white lace. Some of the props were up high, others were down low or on their side. At one end was a bright light that threw deep shadows across the white scenery.

The class began to pull out their paints. Mr. V put on music in the background.

"You just pick a small part of it to paint," Francis whispered to him, "not the whole thing." He held his hands up making a square with his fingers. Then he started moving his arm around and humming.

Alfred looked down at his hands. Then he looked back at Francis'. He made to L's, but when he put them together they made a triangle.

"Um," Alfred mumbled. The older man looked down.

"Ah you do it like this," he squatted down and flipped one of Alfred's hands around. His wrist was all twisty.

"That's uncomfortable," he grouched.

Francis hummed again, "try it with your other hand."

Alfred flipped his hands around. It felt much better. The boy looked up shyly at Francis, "what do you do now?" he asked.

"Now you looked through it and see which part of the still life you want to paint."

Alfred stuck his eye up close to his square.

"But I can see everything," he giggled.

A warm hand tugged his fingers away from his eye. Alfred squirmed and Francis let go.

"You have to move it out a little," Francis explained.

He looked through the square again. Now he saw pieces of cones and a ball. He moved it over and saw cones and blocks. The cones looked funny. He wasn't painting any cones.

He moved his square around until there weren't any cones in it. Francis was puttering around his easel. He looked kind of disappointed.

Alfred took a deep breath, "so how to do I keep it there and paint?"

Francis turned back to him, smiled and bounced on his heels a bit. "Well you have to use your memory. I'd say start in the center and when you get worried just check again!"

Alfred nodded, but made no move to start. All the white made him feel like he was going to make some mistake and then he'd never be able to fix it and his painting would be terrible and he hadn't even started yet.

He heard a wet sound next to him and turned to look. Alfred's eyes widen and he snorted. He clapped a hand over his mouth. Francis was attacking his canvas! He was streaking gray paint all across it! Francis turned. His eyes were serious. Alfred thought he was going to get yelled at, but instead Francis chuckled.

"I don't like why canvases," he explained, "they make me nervous." Then the blond flipped his long hair and went back to slathering paint in zig zags. When the canvas was mostly covered in light gray paint Francis grabbed his rag and began rubbing at it.

Alfred decided he was going to do the same thing. He raised the large flat brush to the emptiness of the canvas and slashed down. A wide gray stain divide the pristine canvas in half. Alfred stared at it. Then he did it again, and again, and again.

When he lifted the brush the perfection of the white canvas was gone. Instead was a half ruined thing waiting for Alfred to make it beautiful. Humming he rubbed his rag across the stretched fabric like Francis had. Nothing to be worried about.

Alfred watched Francis paint. As his brush moved delicate gray lines began spider webbing across the page. Francis' brush dipped into a light grey color and slowly began shading in a ball. The boy mimicked his movements. The two worked in silence, staring at the odd assortment of balls and blocks.

It took Alfred a while to realize how he thought something looked wasn't how it actually was suppose to be painted. He had to repaint a block four times.

When he got home that night Mattie asked him what he'd learned in the class. Without even having to think about it he replied, "That painting is hard."

* * *

Alfred didn't dread going to painting class like he thought he would. Actually, he kind of liked it. It helped him let loose for a while. Alfred dunked his brush into the black paint. It clung to the white bristles. In the still life the shadows were tucked in tight to the ball, barely more than a dark halo under the object. But not in his painting. Instead they were like a dark mirror image of the ball.

Alfred looked up when the music paused. Once he was in the zone he didn't even notice the music until it was gone.

"Scusi," Mr. V gleefully exclaimed, "It's break time everyone!" and went prancing out of the room. Alfred assumed to heat up some pasta.

The very first class Alfred had caught his teacher devouring a big bowl of ziti behind an easel. Since then he found him eating pasta during almost every break. The boy was sure one day he was going to see noodles sticking out of his teacher's ears.

Alfred around to see a small Japanese boy sitting with a hand held game. He put his brush down, interest piqued. The boy was facing away from another Asian man and frowning ever so slightly. Alfred had never had his own video game before, but he sure did like them.

Alfred quickly headed over so he wouldn't get roped into talking about each others paintings with Francis. He liked painting, really he did, but there was only so much he could take! Francis didn't seem to understand break time meant taking a _break_ _from art._

When Alfred rounded the side of the boy's easel he saw a interesting representation of the still life. The boy's picture had great shadows and highlights, but it didn't seem completely real. Alfred looked at it closely. It was kind of like looking into a hazy dream. Man, he wanted to be able to paint like that!

"Wow," he said without meaning too, "that sure is nice."

The boy looked up. His face was blank, but he shrugged, "Thanks."

"Why are you taking an art course if you can paint like that?" Alfred asked.

"My nii-chan doesn't like how I paint," he said slowly.

Alfred made a little oh sound. He didn't know how to pick up the conversation after that. Should he say I'm sorry?

"The guy I'm here with is really good at painting. I'm not."

The other boy was quiet for a while. His fingers moved on the buttons, but he was barely looking at the screen. Alfred was in awe. He was a cool painter AND an awesome gamer?! This kid must be a superhero or something!

"Do you like video games?"

Alfred nodded quickly, "I love them!"

The boy slid over on the bench, "You can share with me if you want..."

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered, "Thanks dude!"

The two sat engrossed in the game for the entire break. The other kid let him try it out a few times. He died pretty quickly each time though. He needed to practice. If only he could get one! When Mr. V clapped for class to continue Alfred pulled himself away reluctantly.

"That was a lot of fun. Thanks for sharing."

The dark haired boy nodded. As Alfred was about to leave he realized they'd never introduced themselves!

"I'm Alfred by the way!"

"Kiku."

"Well Kiku, it was nice to meet cha!" Alfred smiled as he scurried back to his spot.

When he started painting again he stared at the still life for several moments. He dipped his brush in the white and corrected the shadows around his ball. It still looked a little funny, but the shadows weren't as severe as they were before.

* * *

The weeks passed quickly for Alfred. Painting quickly became something that he looked foreword to going too. Arthur and Francis noticed that Alfred wasn't lying as much and he was doing his homework every night. For each good deed they gave him a sticker. The chart that was stuck to their stainless steel fridge was filling up with quickly.

Before the spring ended Alfred had earned enough to get the rocket ship. He knew because counted everyday after school.

The day he got his last sticker Alfred bounced around the kitchen all afternoon. Arthur had tried to get him to stop, but he just couldn't help it. He was so excited! He wasn't sure when he was gonna get to pick his prize so he didn't want to venture to far away. Just in case they forgot, he could remind them.

Matthew bounced with him at first but after an hour of circling the kitchen island he got bored. He wandered off and returned with his library book. He sat at the kitchen table reading with Arthur while Alfred bounced.

The sky was still blushing red and purple from the winter sunset when Francis walked in the door.

"_Salut mes amours!"_ Francis exclaimed whirling into the kitchen.

He twirled Arthur out of his seat and pulled him into a deep kiss that had Matthew and Alfred running for the door.

"Papa!" Mattie whined.

"Eww!" Alfred joined in.

Neither man responded so the boys figured it'd be best to avoid the kitchen for a while. They built forts in the living room. Matthew pulled out the couch cushions and made a roof out of pillows. Alfred had dragged the coffee table over and draped blankets between it and the sofa. Then he had booby trapped it with exploding pillows.

"This way I'm super safe inside 'cause only I can get in and out!" He said hopping around the traps.

"I'm not doing that," Mattie replied sitting at the front of his fort. Mattie's fort had a clear entrance with lots of pillows. The boys tossed beanie bags at each other.

"Boom!" Alfred exclaimed, "I gotcha!"

Matthew gasped and clutched his chest. He groaned once before laying still in the entrance of his fort. Alfred cheered and quickly crab walked, hopped and shimmied out of his fort. He pranced over to Mattie's fort.

"This land is conquered in the name of- AH! Mattie!" Alfred toppled over and Matthew sprung up and tackled him.

"I LIVE!" Matthew chomped his teeth together on Alfred's shoulder. "I'm a zombie warrior! I'm going to eat you up! Om nom nom!"

"Boys!" Francis called, "Dinner!"

Both blond children sprang up and took off, racing for the table. They hurtled through the kitchen door. It slammed against the back wall with a bang. Alfred nearly slipped on the tiles as he rounded the island. Matthew pushed ahead of him and crashed into his seat.

"I win! I win! Boo-yah!" Matthew cheered and danced around his chair.

"I just let you win!" Alfred argued. Matthew ignored him and kept dancing, quietly singing, "I won. I won!"

Arthur set a plate of potates down. "No fighting please," he said.

"Sorry!" The boys chorused together, grinning up at the man.

Since Francis made dinner Alfred helped himself to a massive roll, a thick piece of steak, three big spoonfuls of cheesy potatoes and a handful of raw peppers. The plate of food nearly came up to his chin! Compared to Mattie's sparse pickings he had a mountain of food.

"Alfred don't you think you have a lot of food?" Arthur asked.

The child looked up. There were pieces of potato stuck to the sides of his face. He shook his head.

"I'll eat all of it," He said. "Don't worry."

He started to talk to Mattie about making treasure maps for their next great adventure. Alfred was on his best behavior at dinner. He couldn't wait to get his rocket ship. He wasn't going to mess it up!

The meal went mostly smooth with only one glass of spilled milk from Alfred. He quickly jumped up to grab a rag and mop it up. The first time he'd knocked something over at the table he'd started to cry. He couldn't even clean up the mess himself. Not anymore. Now he was a really big boy!

"Sorry!" He exclaimed, running over to the rag drawer, "I can clean it up!"

Francis rose to grab the carton of milk while Alfred cleaned the mess.

"Good job," Francis said as he righted the fallen plastic cup. Alfred smiled at the praise, "thanks." Quickly new milk was poured and the meal continued.

After the family cleaned up Matthew disappeared. Alfred wanted to also, but he was dying to know when he was going to get his rocket ship. He puttered about behind Francis while the adults were spoke quietly. They looked really serious and Alfred didn't want to interrupt them. After a few minutes, Alfred tugged on Arthur's coats.

"Yes, Alfred?" Arthur said.

"Uhh well..." Alfred started slowly, slightly uncomfortable with asking for his rocket ship, but determined none the less. "I was wondering when I could get my rocket ship? Cause my sticker chart is all filled up and uhh..." he trailed off.

Two pairs of eyes flew to the fridge.

"By George!"

"Congratulations!"

Arthur swept Alfred up into his arms. Alfred was bounced and he was laughing, "I thought," he giggled as he was danced around the kitchen, "you knew and weren't gonna give it to me."

The little boy was plopped down on the floor. Arthur left the kitchen yelling behind him, "Of course not! I've got it right here."

Matthew popped his head inside, "What's going on?"

"I'm gettin' my rocket!" Alfred cheered.

"Cool! Does that mean we're finally going to the moon?"

"Uh-huh! Moon 'splorations here we come!" Alfred exclaimed. The boys raced off into the living room to being exploring. Arthur and Francis watched from the kitchen doorway smiling.

"We'll be ok," Francis said, pulling the shorter man into a hug.

"That we will," Arthur replied.


	19. Ends and Beginnings

The weeks passed quickly. The days grew longer and warmer. Alfred started little league which he liked waaay more than painting. That was especially true because the class was starting their independent projects and Alfred had no idea what he was going to do.

The final project was suppose to be something with movement. Francis had sketched an image of Arthur cooking. There was smoke curling up into the air, a bowl spinning on it's side and birds swooping in the window. It was really good.

At first he thought about doing a picture of Mattie at hockey practice. Alfred liked watching Mattie during games. When Mattie scored a goal, Alfred cheered and when he sent up ice sprays as he skidded to a stop, Alfred whooped. It'd be the perfect project.

In preparation for the painting Alfred went to a bunch of Matthew's practices armed with a sketchpad and Francis's iphone. He took a bunch of pictures and tried to get a feeling for the player's movements.

After the third time his hockey player turned into strange alien looking things he asked Francis for help. The older man sketched out a few images for him and Alfred practiced the rest of the week. But he just wasn't getting it. His people didn't look like people.

It was after the third practice Alfred accepted he was just no good at painting people and he should pick a new idea. He wasn't too upset though because he _really_ hated sitting in the cold rink for hours and hours.

Next he decided he was going to try to draw his rocket ship in mid launch off. In class that week he spoke with Mr. V about the idea. He sat down with Alfred and helped him sketch out the ship, but every time the teacher walked away Alfred messed it up. He was ready to pull his hair out.

The car ride home that night was dead silent. Alfred didn't talk to Francis or sing along with the radio or point out license plates. He was going to come up with a new idea if it killed him!

* * *

His covers were warm when he crawled under the blankets.

"Night Alfred," Mattie sighed.

"Sleep tight, Mattie." Alfred replied, "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

He rolled over and closed his eyes. Wind rush by the window. The hardwood floors creaked as Francis and Arthur were walking around downstairs. Alfred traced constellations in his mind's eye, hoping it would help him relax.

Mattie sighed and Alfred was sure he was already in dreamland. Alfred rolled over and flipped his pillow over. All he could think about was that everyone else had already started on their projects. During class he had just sat at his easel trying to come up with an idea. Even talking to Kiku hadn't helped.

"You're thinking so loud that I can't fall asleep," Matthew grumbled from across the room. Alfred's eyes widened. He was positive Matthew was already sleeping!

"Sorry," Alfred whispered. Rolling in to face the wall, Alfred continued to stew. Could he paint boats? Or clouds drifting through mountains? What about leaves drifting on the wind? His ideas got fuzzier and more distant as he fell asleep.

Bright green lights read 2:39 am. In front of him was the dark outlines the driver's seat. Out his window was a twisting highway. His eyes kept drifting back to a chain of mountains. They were laid out against a sky dark as ink. Alfred needed to get back over those mountains.

Bright stars and a full moon lit made the night look lunar. Nothing was familiar but the two lines of light stretched out ahead of him. They looked like glittering jeweled necklaces. One was red and the other, white. He passed by a village was nestled into the side of a mountain. Orange lights dotted the dark landscape.

Something in him ached. It felt like a bruise but worse. Right on his heart. He looked back up. The sky was freckled with pinpricks of light. The world was as quiet as a picture.

His mother's favorite constellation was Orion because it was the only one she could find. Suddenly the sky was blurry. Alfred couldn't find Orion even though he could always find it.

Alfred sat up gasping, the images burnt into his mind. He'd tried to forget that night. When it hadn't worked he'd decided to fill in the space with facts about the pink dolphins and constellations and paint colors. But it was still there... like a worm hidden inside an apple.

He flipped his pillow over. Mattie's glow-in-the-dark stars stared at him. Maybe he should paint that night? Maybe if he painted it then it'd get out of him. Alfred nodded to nobody.

Yeah, he'd paint that night.

* * *

Alfred mixed not quite dark gray, a little bit of red and blue together. The paint turned a delicious dark grape color. He added some dark grey to it and dipped a wide, flat brush into his paint. He smeared the deep purple-black swash across his canvas. That was one of his favorite parts of painting.

"You're not so scary now!" He jeered at the painting.

After staring at the painting for several minutes he started to dab small white spots on the darkened canvas. Slowly constellations began appearing: Orion's belt, the Gemini twins and Cais Major.

During the break he played video games with Kiku. He was suppose to have gotten a new game over the weekend.

"Hey Kiku!" Alfred chirped, "Did you get it?"

The dark haired boy nodded and looked up, "Yes, would you like to try?"

Alfred cheered, "Yeah! Awesome!"

The two played for several minutes. The point of the game was to catch a white rabbit. He ran through several different worlds and monsters came out that you had to beat. Alfred had lost sight of the rabbit so Kiku was directing him. He was running along a path of rainbow light.

"I'm glad you like my games," Kiku murmured after Alfred reached the end of the rainbow and been spiraled into a new world, "No one at school does."

Alfred's brow furrowed and he paused the game, "Well they're stupid then," Alfred said, "your games are tons of fun!"

Kiku nodded as he played with the hem of his shirt.

"Don't worry, Kiku! I'll always play with you!"

Kiku gave Alfred a small smile, "Thank you Alfred."

Mr. V called everyone back to their easels and Alfred went scampering back to his spot. His mind was on Kiku and the video game and mean children. Alfred started to paint Lepus, the hare, but something looked wrong. He had stopped and was staring at the picture in confusion when Francis came over.

"That looks lovely," Francis said from behind him.

"Thanks," he said, smiling up at the man, "but something's wrong with Lepus."

"With who?"

"Lepus," Alfred said pointing at the constellation. Alfred couldn't put his finger on it, but something wasn't quite right.

"Alfred..." Francis' breath hitched, "Is that an accurate depiction of the night sky?"

Alfred's blue gaze was riveted to the dots. "Huh?" He questioned half heartedly. He knew he's painted Alpha and Beta Leporis in the right spots but Gamma, Epsilon and Kappa he wasn't sure about.

"Uhh, I mean," Francis looked amazed, "are those real constellations?"

Alfred murmured a quick "yup" still trying to figure out where the last three stars were suppose to go.

"And they're in the right spots? Like I could go outside and find them?"

Alfred stared at him, "A'course," he said puzzled, "how else would you paint the sky?"

Francis crouched down and gazed into Alfred's picture with amazement on his face.

"This is amazing," Francis said.

Alfred bit his lip and gave a half shrug, "Thanks."

Alfred left Franacis staring at the picture so he could to look up the exact location of the stars. He printed off a map of the night sky and compared the image to his painting. He was mostly right, but kind of wrong. He blacked out some of the white dots.

He'd fix it.

* * *

The windows were open and a warm breeze was drifting into the room. Alfred was trying to figure out how he was suppose to draw the highway. The one in his mind didn't go straight off into the distance, but curved around before disappearing into the darkness.

"Mr. V?" Alfred called out waving his hand in the air.

"Yes Alfred?" Mr. V lauhed.

"I need help," Alfred sighed. He pouted at his canvas. He kept getting big blocks of color. Alfred didn't know why the picture in his head didn't look the same as the one on the page. He'd been able to do the sky no problem. So why was everything else so hard?

"What can I help you with?"

Alfred whispered his idea to Mr. V, "The road is suppose to curl off into the mountain side and the city lights kind of twinkle. It's like they're in a plum colored bowl."

The teacher nodded twice before picking up a thin, round brush. He dipped it in a white-gray color and quickly traced the outline of a highway twisting off the canvas.

"You think you can take it from here?" He asked.

Alfred bit his lip but nodded. As Mr. V was walking away though Alfred realized he had no idea how to continue on. He sighed. This was going to be hard.

Alfred and Francis huddled together under an umbrella. Francis was wearing kaki pants that were getting rain splatters on the bottoms. As they were leaving Arthur had yelled at Francis, insisting the Frenchmen should wear 'galoshes.' Francis laughed and ignored him. Arthur didn't give Alfred an option so he had jeans tucked into knee high rain boots.

They were making their way out to the car after the last painting class. His painting kit was clutched in one hand and his final project was tucked under his arm. Alfred had been right that last painting was hard. He was happy to put down his brushes for a while.

"Bye Kiku! Bye!" Alfred waved with his free hand. "See ya soon!"

A big puddle was in front of him.

"Don't even think about it Alfred," Francis warned as he guided them around the puddle. Alfred pouted and kicked at the wet sidewalk.

Alfred clambered into the car, dropping his painting stuff by his feet. The only part of his final project that he really liked was his sky. Even after working with Mr. V the rest of it didn't look how he wanted it too.

He could see that night so clearly in his head, but somehow that didn't translate to the paper. It looked like a cartoon... he thought it was because his picture had dark lines around some shapes. Francis's didn't have those.

Alfred liked painting, but not as much as he liked video games and sports. By the end of class he really just liked going because he got to see Kiku. Alfred did want his pictures to get better, but he couldn't stand to look at paint any more. But if Francis wanted to take another class in the future he might think about taking another one.

Maybe.

* * *

The soggy spring days slowly ripened into summer. Before Matthew knew it school had ended and he headed off to camp.

Daddy was running around the house yelling and grabbing extra underwear. Matthew didn't think getting two kids ready for camp should be any different than one, but Daddy was convinced that someone had forgotten something.

Papa stood in the doorway chuckling. Alfred was sitting on the front step with his backpack between his legs. Half of a superman action figure was sticking from between the zipper's teeth. Matthew plopped down next to him.

"Is he always like this?" Alfred asked.

Matthew shook his head no and Alfred bit his thumbnail.

"Should I say something to him?" Alfred asked.

Mattie puffed his cheeks out. After a moment he blew all of the out air and shrugged, "I guess if you think it'll help."

Alfred nodded and strode into the house.

"Arthur!" He hollered. "I took tons of road trips with my father..." Matthew couldn't hear the rest as Alfred moved deeper into the house.

A moment later the door slammed and Alfred came tearing around the side of the house hollering, "Ok everyone we're getting in the car!"

Two seconds later Daddy came storming out of the house with a scowl on his face. Matthew chuckled leaving for camp last year hadn't been like this at all.

"What did you do?" Matthew whispered as he climbed into the backseat. Alfred scrambled in next to him and Papa slid into the driver's seat.

Alfred shook his head, still laughing quietly. Daddy tossed a backpack in the car, got in and they were off. Matthew pouted. He wanted to know what was going on too. If Daddy was going to yell Matthew wanted to be prepared.

Once they hit the Mass Turnpike Mattie closed his eyes and cuddled his bear. He was ready to take a nap. Matthew had just started to drift off when Alfred started hollering.

"Maine!" Alfred exclaimed as he jabbed the window, "Mattie! Look! It's a Maine license plate!"

Matthew thunked his head on the glass.

"Didja see that Mattie?" Alfred chirped, "Didja?"

"I'm sleeping," Matthew grumbled with his eyes closed.

"Oh," Alfred sighed. Mattie felt a little bit bad, but he just wanted to sleep away the ride. It was quiet for a moment before he heard Daddy give a little oof.

"Did you see it Arthur?"

Mattie guessed he wasn't getting a nap.

"Uh huh," Arthur grumbled focused on his needle point. Daddy always really liked car rides because he had lots of hours to do nothing but needle point.

"Can you write it down?" Alfred asked bouncing in his seat.

"Can't you just remember it love?" Daddy asked and Mattie snickered to himself. At least he wasn't the only one put off.

"No way!" Alfred exclaimed, "I'm going to try to get all fifty! Once I start seeing a bunch I'm not going to be able to remember if it was Maine or Massachusetts or Montana!"

Daddy sighed, "if it will make you happy then I will." He said as he put down his needle work and pulled out his phone

"Awesome! Thanks," Alfred gushed.

The car was quiet for a few moments and Matthew yawned. He rested his head against Kumabear.

"Oh look! New Jersey!"

Matthew sighed and rolled over to face the window. This was going to be a long car ride. He tuned Alfred out and let the rocking of the car put him to sleep.

"Arthur!"

Matthew jolted away. The straps of his booster seat dug into his shoulders. Alfred was clinging to the back of Daddy's chair.

"What's that one?" He asked as he waved his hand through the side and pointed at a blue van. Matthew groaned and _accidentally_ smacked Alfred in the chest as he stretched.

"Shh," Mattie mumbled.

"What is it?" Alfred stage whispered.

Daddy squinted, "Texas I think."

"We don't have that one!"

Arthur chuckled and tapped it into his phone.

"Which ones are we missing?"

Arthur began listing off states. The car's vibrations put Matthew back to sleep.

* * *

Alfred and Matthew stood with black duffel bags in front of a yellow bus. Other children were wandering about waiting for the buses to splutter to life. Mattie was heading back for his third year at Camp Onondaga. He loved camp. He loved the counselors and he loved the activities and he was so glad he was going back.

This year Alfred was coming with him. Mattie was excited. It'd definitely be easier to making lots of friends since he already had one. The closest bus coughed and choked out a plume of smoke. Daddy's hand on his shoulder tightened and Matthew smiled. It was almost time.

The first year Matthew's parents drove him all the way to the camp. When he got there and got into his cabin only the counselor was there. The rest of the kids were on the bus, even Ivan, the crazy tall kid from _Russia_ had taken the bus.

"Boarding Arapahoe through Oneida in bus number one!" A tall man called out from the steps of the bus. He continued on, "That means campers in Arapahoe, Ottawa, Shoshone, Apache, and Oneida!"

"Oh, Shoshone! That's us!" Alfred exclaimed and grabbed Mattie's hand. Matthew nodded. He was fidgeting back and forth. He wanted to go. The boy looked up to his fathers. Francis was misty eyed and Arthur was scowling at the bus.

"Come on campers!" A silver haired man shouted, "Get on the bus so we can start the awesome!"

Mattie threw his arms around his Papa and buried his face in his stomach. He felt himself get scooped off the ground. Papa was murmuring in French things that Mattie had known since forever. Brush his teeth, try something new, talk to the other kids. But Mattie didn't say anything. He just nodded along.

"And remember my little one," Papa whispered in French, "Your daddy and I are only a phone call away." Mattie nodded.

"I love you so very much," Papa said pressing a kiss to his forehead as he put him back on the ground.

"I love you too Papa. I'll write lots of letters. I promise," Mattie smiled. The boy turned to say good bye to his Daddy. Arthur was down on one knee hugging Alfred and whispering something in his year. The other boy looked nervous. After several moments Arthur pulled away and swatted Alfred over to Francis.

"Come here baby," Arthur motioned to him. Mattie dove into his arms. As fun as camp was it was always hard leaving his parents.

"You're going to have so much fun at camp this year. Remember I love you forever. I love you for always. Cause as long as I'm living my baby you'll be."

Mattie smiled into his Daddy's chest. Before he could pull away Alfred grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the bus. Alfred waved over his shoulder the whole way.

"Bye Francis! Bye Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed.

Matthew climbed up the steps of the bus. His brother grabbed a seat and patted the one next to him excitedly. Matthew slipped into the spot and Alfred was already chatting up a storm to the boys in front of them.

Matthew looked out the window and waved at his parents. Blushing he blew them each a little kiss. Papa caught it and waved with one hand, the other kept it close to his heart. Daddy slapped a hand to his forehead, but blew him a kiss back. Matthew giggled.

There was a soft nudging at his shoulder. The blond boy looked behind him. A silver haired boy with a brown jacket was kneeling on the seat behind him.

"Hello Matthew," Emil said.

His facial expression didn't show that he was happy, but Matthew knew. Emil was just reserved. When Mattie first met him he only spoke Icelandic. It hadn't bothered Matthew though. They'd played field hockey, canoed and done pottery together.

By last summer Emil had learned a bunch of odd English words. Matthew was glad to see him back again this year. Before Alfred he was Matthew closest friend.

"Hi Emil!"

The two friends chatted about their school year and what they were going to do at camp this year. After a while Matthew noticed the lack of noise from his right. Matthew turned to see Alfred watching the other two boys. Matthew smiled and gave Alfred a side bump.

"Sorry I didn't introduce you guys." He said redirecting Emil's gaze.

"Emil, this is Alfred," Matthew said, "he's my brother."

Emil nodded at the other boy. Alfred smiled and began talking everyone's ears off about all the things he wanted to try at camp. The bus slowly pulled away from the curb. The other kids began shouting and waving good-bye to their families. Alfred pulled him close as they joined in shouting last minute goodbyes through the window. Mattie laughed as he was pressed cheek to cheek with his brother while they waved at their parents. Mattie grinned, this was the start to something great.

_Fin_

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait. I've had a tumultuous two months. Thank you for being so patient and for following this story so avidly. This has been quite the ride. Honestly I'm not quite sure if I'm ready for it to end which is why you might see a sequel in the near future. But this story was about bringing the FACE family together and we've accomplished that.


	20. The Way Things Seem Preview

I know I spoke of a sequel for this story and here is a little preview of what is to come. Just know that I am diligently working on it!

* * *

**The Way Things Seem**

**Excerpt from Chapter One**

A school bell rang and swarms of preteens flooded out of the large brick building. Yellow school buses were lined up in the parking lot. In a crowded hallway, a blond boy with glasses slung his backpack over his shoulder and pushed his way out to the back athletic fields. Two floors down, a second blond boy slipped into the art room.

Matthew plopped his backpack down on the desk. The studio was hushed. The noises from the other kids barely touched the calm inside the room. Mattie wasn't the only one in art club usually, but this week the flu had been going around so a lot of the members were out.

"Just you today Matthew?" Mr. Germania asked.

Matthew nodded, "Feliks, Toris and Mei have the flu. And Jack has rugby practice. Liam might come in though."

Mr. Germania smiled, "a quiet day then."

Mattie nodded and pulled out his biology book. Jack and his brother, Liam, were both in his boy scouts troop. Liam had aged out of cub scouts last year and had joined their troop. Both boys were really cool.

For as long as Mattie had known Jack he was a total adrenaline junkie and even though their was a rugby team at the school, Jack decided he needed another extracurricular ("to make him well rounded") so the first day of sixth grade, he'd join art club. Three years later when Liam started sixth grade, he'd joined also.

He wanted sometime to work on a project for boy scouts without everyone around asking him about it. It was cool to be in scouts in elementary school and even the first year of middle school, but now as an eight grader... not so much. He pulled a book of paper from a wooden cubby in the corner of the room. Matthew had been working towards both his plant science and forestry badges for a while now. The blond boy had seen all the overlap between the two and figured he'd kill two birds with one stone.

Last fall, Matthew had finished the field work so now he only had the drawings and labeling still to do. To save himself from constantly looking for two books he'd put all his work in one big book. The first half was for forestry and the second was for plant science.

He shook his biology book upside down and, from between the pages, out fell several bags of dried leaves and flowers. At the top of each bag was a piece of masking tape with the name of each plant. The boy set out the bags on top of the other desks.

The first pages were filled of detailed drawings of different trees. Each page had the tree drawn in the middle of the page and his descriptions and explanations curling around it. It was coming out really cool.

"Hi Matt!" chirped Liam as he stumbled into the room. He had a frisbee tucked under one arm.

Matthew looked up from organizing his plants and smiled, "Hey!"

The boy set down his stuff with a clatter and trotted over to the corner to grab his clay. He'd been working on some strange sculpture thing for a while now. Matthew had no idea what it was suppose to be but the smaller boy was very excited with it.

The pages of his notebook were scraggly from constantly being flipped through. A quarter of the way through he found a clean piece of paper. He pulled out his little black field book and in clean lines labeled at the top, Beach-Pea, Lathyrus maritimus.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked. Matthew looked over, his hands were already covered in a layer of brown clay.

"I'm doing the forestry and plant science badges for Scouts."

"Oh," the younger boy said as he looked closer, "Jack did the forestry one. It's really hard!"

Mattie nodded, "Yeah, I remember when he got it. He helped me find a good sight to look up different plants."

The two chatted as they worked about the next badge ceremony and Liam's dog care badge. Mattie pulled the pencil across the page and the image of the beach-pea was pulled out of the white paper. Dark, thick lines of the stem spanned the page diagonally. He drew a small line and labeled the different properties in his looping hand writing. If he ever needed to he could live off the land some day.

* * *

The Way Things Seem complete Chapter One will be posted in the next few days. Be excited everyone! We're off on another adventure!


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